


The Dead Who Groan Within

by Disasteriffic_Kaz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring, Case Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 19:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1482010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Disasteriffic_Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys visit a quiet lake town in NY in search of a simple hunt and find more than they bargained for in a prehistoric ruin. Stand-alone hunt set post s1e07 "Hookman" with refs from ep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: I started writing this one while working on my reader prompt fic "Reader's Special: First Edition" so I'd have something to do between chapters waiting for enough prompts to write. Having just watched Hookman I figured, what the hell, I haven't written a fic in Season 1 in a while and I do adore the boys back then. As I also adore Edgar Allen Poe, this particular story was loosely inspired by his poem "The Sleeper". Yes, you should google it and read the whole poem. It's gorgeous and, since it's Poe, oddly fitting for Supernatural. Heh.

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_The rosemary nods upon the grave;_  
The lily lolls upon the wave;  
Wrapping the fog about its breast,  
The ruin molders into rest;  
Looking like Lethe, see! the lake  
A conscious slumber seems to take,  
And would not, for the world, awake.

_~ excerpt from Edgar Allen Poe "The Sleeper"_

_**CHAPTER 1** _

… _Keuka Lake, NY…_

"Ok, Dave. You know you're not really an Archaeologist right?" Jenny groaned as her boyfriend…and she was really starting to rethink that relationship, handed her another stupid peg with a stupid flag on it.

"I'm an armchair Archaeologist." Dave grinned happily at her.

"I fail to see an armchair." Jenny waved her arms wide, aggravated.

"Figure of speech. Put that stake there." Dave pointed to the spot at her feet.

Jenny rolled her eyes as she 'marked' yet another useless piece of rock in the rock littered ground. Dave was working under the delusion that he was surveying the Bluff Point ruins. There wasn't much of them left intact above ground; crumbling walls and rooms open to the sky, carefully measured and stepped pits where blocks had been cut out so long ago no one remembered and here and there, the dark maws of openings leading down below ground blocked off with iron gates and padlocks to protect the public. "Come on, Dave. I'm hungry! It's getting late. Please can we go to A&W for a burger?"

"Not yet! There's still daylight." Dave counted steps between his markers, noting them faithfully in his little notebook. He'd been crushed when his parents had made him go to Keuka College. They didn't even have an Archaeology program so he was teaching himself. Two years in the little hole in the wall college and a good survey under his belt and he'd transfer to Penn State whether his parents liked it or not. He just wished Jenny would get into it more.

"Dave. I'm serious. I'm done." Jenny dropped the handful of stakes to the ground and crossed her arms. "It's getting cold and this is boring. I'm waiting in the car." She turned on her heel, ignoring Dave's protests.

"Fine! I'll be back up when I'm done." Dave said to her retreating back and sighed. "Why do girls have to be so lame?" He went back and picked up the discarded stakes, straightening the little flags and tucked them in one of the pockets of his cargo pants. A scratching sound caught his attention and he looked up to the wrought iron gate a few feet away. The sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon, perched just above the top of the mountain on the other side of the lake and the gulley Dave stood in was now in shadow. He shivered suddenly, watching his breath frost out in front of him.

"Guess it is kinda cold out here." He said to himself and walked toward the gate as it rattled lightly against the stone around it. "Hello?" Dave called softly. "Jenny if you're screwing with me cause I brought you out here, I'm sorry." He reached the gate and peered inside, unable to see anything in the inky blackness beyond. He spun, nervous as pebbles scattered down the side of the gulley behind him. "Jenny?" Impossibly, the air grew even colder and Dave felt his fingers going numb.

"Ok. Ok, I think…I'm done for the day. Yeah." Dave backed away from the gate and started walking quickly back up the path, stumbling over stones and little flagged markers as he made his back up. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him and it was making his skin crawl. "Jenny?" He called, whirling to peer behind him. He thought he heard a whisper, or maybe it had been a sigh. "Jenny if that's you this isn't funny anymore!" He backed up the incline toward where they'd left the car and he cried out when his foot turned and he stumbled, falling backwards to thump onto his back.

"Ow." Dave rubbed the back of his head and sat up in the growing gloom. "Jen…" His voice trailed off, eyes opening wide in shock and he scrambled away, frantic. "Oh god, oh god, oh god, Jenny!" She lay beside him. He had tripped on her arm. Blood colored the dirt and stones around her in a sickening splatter painting and her dead eyes stared accusingly at him even as they glazed while he watched.

Dave's panicked; terrified breaths couldn't hide the sound of something big sliding over the gravel on the path below him though he couldn't see it. He stood on coltish legs, turning to run, to escape and then he screamed…

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… _Chicago, Illinois…_

Dean tilted back in the chair at the little table in their motel room in Chicago, coffee in one hand and donut hanging out of his mouth as he scrolled through nationwide news reports on the laptop, looking for a job. He heard the shower shut off and smiled, reaching a long arm to pull a powdered white donut from the box. A minute later, the bathroom door opened and Sam stepped out, still toweling off his hair.

"Think fast!" Dean called and launched the donut at his brother's face. Sam barely had time to look up and blink before the pastry thwacked him between the eyes in a little cloud of white and fell to the floor.

Sam dropped the towel, disgusted. "Dude, are you five?"

Dean snickered and shrugged, taking another bite of his own donut while he eyed Sam critically. He looked better, less haunted than he had yesterday when they'd left Ankeny, Iowa, the Hookman and Laurie behind. He'd got them out of the state altogether and stopped for the night when he got tired of watching Sam cradle his arm and try to look like he wasn't in pain. Dean had shaken his head at the butterfly bandaids the EMT's had used to close the deep gash and put in his own neat little row of stitches in Sam's arm last night.

"How's the arm?" Dean asked, watching Sam favor it still while he wiped powdered sugar off his forehead.

"Better before some dumbass decided to get sugar on it." Sam groused and pulled a clean shirt out of his duffel.

"Oh don't be such a bitch." Dean laughed and got up, striding over to take Sam's arm and look critically at his own work. The stitches were clean, the three inch wound oozing a bit beneath them.

"It's fine." Sam said and pulled his arm away.

Dean plucked the antiseptic and a fresh bandage off the nightstand and grabbed his arm again. "It will be. Sit still." He kept a firm grip when Sam tugged again. "Sammy."

"It's Sam, and it's fine." Sam glared but Dean only grinned at him and poured the antiseptic over the wound. Sam hissed between his teeth and took a deep breath, stifling the groan that wanted to escape.

"You were saying?" Dean pushed the bottle into Sam's good hand and placed the bandage over the cut, winding it carefully around his little brother's left forearm until it was snug, tucking the end in place. "Ok, now you can go back to giving me epic bitchface." Dean went back to his chair and turned the laptop to face Sam while he pulled the shirt over his head. "Found us a job."

"What about Dad?" Sam asked as he came over and sat, resting his arm on the table.

Dean sighed and pulled out his cell phone, sliding it over to Sam. "New coordinates." Dean said and pointed to the laptop. "Took me a while but I found what caught his attention." The text had come in just after Sam had gone in the bathroom. Dean inwardly growled at their father who still gave them no hint of his condition or whereabouts except for his cryptic ex-Marine crap.

Sam narrowed his eyes as he studied the article and frowned. "Well, one of them definitely sounds like a ghost but the other?"

"Yeah the woman, uh…" Dean looked at his notes. "Jennifer Galley. Never seen a ghost do that to someone." Dean shrugged. "First time for everything I suppose."

"College students and…you ever heard of Bluff Point ruins?" Sam looked up to see Dean shake his head.

"Sounds like a good place for the not so dearly departed to hang out and cause trouble though." Dean smirked. "So let's go bust some ghosts and kick some ass, Sammy."

"Sam." Sam said and rolled his eyes as his brother got up and started tossing things in their duffels.

"Sure thing, Sammy." Dean smirked. He didn't have to look to know his brothers' face would crack him up. Distracting Sam from another 'Dad rant' was as easy as getting him irritated at something else and Dean wasn't in the mood. "Pack up, princess. I wanna get back on the road."

"Jerk." Sam muttered but he closed the laptop and stood to pack.

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… _Kingsville, OH…_

"Dude. Diner." Dean said cheerily as they turned off I 90 into the usual scattering of gas stations and restaurants that catered to highway travelers. The sign proclaiming Kay's Diner was just too much for Dean to pass up and he was hungry.

Sam snorted and rolled his head on his shoulders. It would be nice to get out of the car for a little while. They'd been driving for almost six hours and he was desperate to stretch his legs. He eyed the unassuming yellow building that looked more like a converted house and the aging pavement in front of it as they pulled in to the Diner. "Oh goodie." Sam groaned.

"Never knock a good Diner, Sammy." Dean grinned, anticipation making him drool. They got out, both stretching and Dean heard echoing pops from his brother as they worked out the kinks. "Come on. Trust me. The food'll be great."

Sam rolled his eyes and smiled; sure only that it would be the usual greasy spoon that made Dean drool and him groan. They pushed through the doors inside and Sam upped his estimation slightly. It was clean and warmly decorated with little homey touches like needlepoints and framed photos on the cream walls. A counter curved from the entrance into the smaller of two dining rooms and Dean slid onto one of the low backed stools with a happy sigh. Sam sat beside him and then chuckled, seeing the object of the too happy grin on his big brother's face. A massive case filled with various homemade pies.

"I think I'm in love." Dean said softly, eyes roaming the contents of the pie case as though it were a woman.

"You will be." An older woman with curly, red hair stepped out from behind the case, glasses perched on her nose and welcoming smile in place. "My pies are unbeatable. I'm Kay. What can I get you boys?"

"Pie." Dean said quickly and Sam elbowed him.

"Food first, Dude." Sam smiled up at Kay, liking the way her eyes sparkled when she smirked at them. "What's good?"

Kay laughed and grabbed a pitcher from under the counter, pouring them each a glass of water. "Oh honey everything's good. Gotta say though, my Dave outdid himself with the Stuffed Pepper Soup today. You want it." She grinned at Sam in challenge and he chuckled.

"Stuffed Pepper soup? Sounds good." Sam took his water. "And a salad?"

"Rabbit food." Dean elbowed him back. "I'll have a burger, cheese, onions and fries."

"Save room for pie." A man with a startling white head of hair called from the other end of the counter. Dean looked over and smiled in harmony with the sentiment, quickly appraising the attractive brunette sitting beside him, much younger and given their faces, obviously his daughter. She gave him a crooked grin and rolled her eyes at her Dad.

"Dad. Eat your pie. You're scaring the straights." She said, making Sam chuckle.

"Am not. You gonna finish that?" The white haired man asked his daughter and grinned when she shook her head and shoved the last few bites of her own pie over to him.

Kay laughed. "Don't mind them. Annual regulars. He's my pie slave. She'll roll him back out to the car soon enough. You boys want coffee?"

"Yes, please." Sam nodded and sat back as Kay bustled off to the kitchens. "Ok, so far, I'm liking this place."

"Told ya." Dean said with a smile and couldn't stop his eyes drifting back to the pie case.

Sam had to admit a half hour later that the Stuffed Pepper Soup was quite possibly the best thing he had ever tasted. He'd even convinced Dean to have a bite and his big brother had agreed. "Kay this is fantastic!" Sam told her when she emerged from the kitchen again.

"I know." Kay replied with a knowing smirk. She looked over as the older man and his daughter stood. "See you two in three days?"

"Wouldn't miss it, Kay." The white haired man stepped around the counter to give her a hug and then his daughter did the same.

"Thanks, Kay."

"You two drive safe now." Kay watched them leave with a smile. "They come in twice a year, once on the way up and then on the way back." She chuckled. "Good folks."

"I can see why." Dean said and pushed his empty plate away. "Okay, pie."

Kay laughed and opened the case. "They're all fresh but the blackberry just came out an hour ago, picked the berries myself this morning."

Dean all but drooled. "Blackberry it is." He watched as she cut him a slice and slid it front of him. He took up his fork with something akin to reverence and took a bite. Dean dropped his hand to the counter and looked up at her with love in his eyes. "Holy crap."

Kay chuckled and pulled a parfait glass out of the cabinet, setting it in front of Sam. "My homemade Tapioca. Trust me." She said and patted his hand in a motherly fashion. There were two layers of tapioca in the glass and a layer of blueberries in the middle. Sam dug a bit from the glass and his eyes widened in appreciation.

"Oh wow." Sam breathed. "This is amazing."

Kay smiled happily. "Homecooked food, boys. What every traveler needs." She started humming and wandered back into the kitchens again.

"We're stopping here again, Sammy." Dean said fiercely as he took another bite.

Sam nodded. "Have too."

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Stuffed to bursting with good food and even better pie, the boys stepped outside of Kay's with matching, satisfied smiles. Kay had given them both friendly hugs, to their surprise as they left and told them to come back next time they needed a little piece of home. Sam took the business card he'd plucked off the counter with a picture of the Diner on the front and tucked it into his pocket with a smile.

"Come on, sasquatch. We fed us. Let's go feed my baby and get rollin." Dean strode to the Impala and waved an arm at the gas station a quarter mile down the road.

Sam was in too good a mood to rise to the nickname and slid into the passenger seat with a contented sigh as Dean fired up the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

"That was some serious food." Dean said in good humor and pushed in the Metallica tape for the short ride down the road, rocking his head to the beat of 'Fade to Black'. He smiled wider when he saw his little brother's fingers tapping along on his knee beside him and pulled into the gas station. They climbed out together and Dean grinned over the roof at him. "You wanna gas or munchies?"

"Seriously?" Sam asked in surprise. "How are you hungry after all that?" He laughed and Dean shrugged, tossing him the keys.

"I'm a growin' boy. You fill 'er up, I'll go get trail rations." Dean strode away through the nearly empty lot and Sam shook his head, bemused and went to the pump. He rocked the nozzle free and unlocked the gas cap, sliding the nozzle in. Sam leaned back against the trunk, squeezing the handle and frowned when nothing happened. He released it and squeezed again and still the gas didn't pump. He looked over his shoulder into the station but couldn't see anything for the glare on the window. "What's taking so long, Dean?" Sam said under his breath and shrugged. Maybe he'd forgotten to get the clerk to turn on the pump before he hit the snack aisle.

Sam chuckled and headed for the station. He pulled the glass door open, stepping inside and knew instantly something had gone very wrong. Dean lay on the floor, back against the counter with one hand to his head; blood running from beneath it. The clerk was visibly shaking behind the counter and two men in hoods turned as one to Sam.

"Oh crap." The closer of the two men lunged at him and Sam didn't think; he acted. He stepped into the charge, bringing his knee up into the man's solar plexus. As he crumpled to the floor Sam swung a long arm out, clipping the second man in the chin. He startled as the masked man revealed a gun from behind his back. Sam grabbed his hand at the wrist, giving it a vicious twist and sending the gun clattering to the floor as the man grunted and dropped to his knees.

"That's…my boy." Dean said blurrily from the floor. He hadn't even seen the men come up behind him, only the clerks' eyes widen in fear a moment before he was spun and then blinding pain when something connected with his head. He watched Sam make mincemeat of the two men with a proud smile. He tried to clear his head and rise, wanting to get his brother's back and heard Sam cry out in pain. Dean's head lurched up, like a hound scenting blood at the sound and saw a third masked man had grabbed hold of Sam's left arm.

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_To be continued…_

_A/N: Kay's Diner: Real place. Every time my Dad and I road trip up to NY to visit family we ALWAYS stop, both ways. Kay's has the best food and best damn pie ANYwhere. OMG the pie. She's awesome and she always remembers us even when she doesn't see us for a whole year…mainly because Dad and I usually make ourselves sick after lunch eating way too much pie but…but…it's that good and homemade. Also, Stuffed Bell Pepper soup…seriously. *dies*_


	2. Chapter 2

_**CHAPTER 2** _

Sam cried out as fingers dug into his forearm and the wound there, sending pain to stab up into his head. His vision blacked out for a moment and he found himself collapsed to his knees. Just as suddenly, his arm was released and Sam looked up to see his big brother rush his attacker with a feral growl, bowling them both into a shelf. Dean flipped the man off to the floor on his back, straddled his chest and drove his fist into the masked face three times and finally lifted the lolling head by the collar with a disgusted look before letting it thunk to the floor, dismissed as a threat.

He crawled over to Sam and hissed in sympathy at the blood now seeping through his sleeve. "Hey, Sammy. You ok?"

Sam nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Shit. Shit." The clerk repeated himself a few more times and slumped over the counter.

"You call the cops yet?" Dean asked and the clerk nodded. "Come on, Sam. Let's get you back in the car, ok?"

"I'm…I'm good." Sam closed his eyes, breathing through the pain and let Dean pull him to his feet. Sam got his eyes open, seeing the blood on Dean's face once more. He turned to the counter and pulled a bandanna out of a box, putting it immediately to Dean's forehead. "Dude, you're bleeding."

"So are you." Dean grinned.

"You…you're just gonna leave?" The Clerk asked nervously, eyes on the two men still rolling on the floor and the third who had yet to move.

"Yep and turn on the pump would ya?" Dean said with a smile but his eyes said he wasn't expecting an argument.

"Uh…uh yeah. Go ahead." The Clerk wiped a shaking hand over his face and did as he was told as the brother's stumbled back outside.

Dean wiped at the blood on his face. He bent over the roof of the Impala to see the damage and sighed. "Not as bad as it looks. Get in, Sammy." He opened the passenger door and watched Sam ease inside, cradling his arm. He briefly considered going back inside and giving one last kick to the jackass who'd hurt Sam. He shook his head, pressed the rag to the cut and went around to the back seeing Sam had left the nozzle in. He squeezed the handle, pleased when the gas started and threw a salute at the station's windows.

Dean put the nozzle back into the pump as the sound of sirens sounded in the distance. "Time to go." He said and slid in behind the wheel. "How you doin?" He asked Sam as he turned on the car and pulled out of the station, heading for the interstate.

"Okay." Sam all but whispered around the pain. He hadn't looked at the damage yet, unable to make himself stop cradling his arm or take pressure off of it. He could feel beneath the bandage, as his hand pressed to stop the blood flow, that at least a few stitches had been torn.

Dean watched Sam's paling face from the corner of his eye as he drove and passed several police cruisers as they turned back onto the interstate. "We'll get a few towns over and stop for the night."

"Don't need to." Sam said. "I can make it til Keuka."

"Well I can't." Dean said, surprising his brother. Normally he'd have kept that information to himself but Sam was gearing up for one of his obstinate 'I'm fine' arguments and Dean knew his arm needed looking at and soon. "Head wound. Remember?" Dean grinned and turned to display the now bloody bandanna clasped to his forehead.

"Shit. You should stop now." Sam let go of his arm and turned to see his brother more clearly. "How's your vision?"

"It's good." Dean smiled to reassure him. "Good enough to get us a few more miles down the road. Relax." He put an arm across Sam's chest and pushed him back into the seat. Sam dropped his head to the back of the seat and cradled his arm again, nodding. Dean smiled, happy the ploy had worked and flicked the headlights on as the sun finally dipped below the horizon behind them.

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Dean gave his little brother a shove toward the motel room door when he would have grabbed his bag. "I got it. Go get the lights on." In truth, he was glad to have an excuse to stop for the night. The last few miles of road in the dusky sun and the headlights glaring in at him had given him a pounding headache. He lugged both their duffels and the weapons bag out of the trunk and followed Sam inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

The room was unremarkable; fairly clean with brown bedspreads, brown carpet and brown walls. It was a beige bonanza. Even the lampshades were beige. He thumped the bags onto the bed closest to the door and bent to dig the first aid kit out of his bag. Sam was sitting on the edge of his bed trying to figure out how to get his jacket off without jostling his arm.

"Hang on." Dean stepped over, set the kit down and took Sam's jacket at the shoulder, easing the sleeve off over the wounded arm. Blood had saturated the gauze through as well as the shirt above it and into Sam's jacket, staining that as well. "Man that jackass had a hell of a grip."

Sam nodded, slipping his good arm out of his overshirt and letting Dean take that one off as well. "I didn't even see him." Sam said softly. "I'm sorry. I should have."

"Hey, I didn't see the asshole either." Dean told him and cuffed the back of his head lightly. "No apologizing for that. You cleaned the floor with the other two." Dean told him and smiled happily. He'd enjoyed watching that. Sam smirked. Dean unwrapped the gauze and then growled; overtop of and around the seeping wound, a handprint had been bruised into Sam's arm. "Son of a bitch." Dean said in a low voice. He swallowed the anger and smiled for Sam. "Not as bad as I thought it'd be." Hang on.

Sam watched him go to the bathroom for a wet cloth and closed his eyes for just a second, trying to still the grinding pain in his arm. The gash hadn't even had a day to heal yet and already it was being abused. His arm felt warm with pain and he gasped in surprise when the cold, wet towel touched it, opening his eyes to find Dean watching him with concern in his eyes.

"I'm ok." Sam said automatically and Dean snorted.

"Uh huh. Just hold still. Gotta redo some of these stitches." Dean rubbed the topical anesthetic he'd scored at the last clinic they'd been to and hoped it would numb some of the pain as he worked. He cut loose the five stitches that had torn, tossing them to the floor before re-sewing the now open wound. Sam took it all stoically; letting only the barest gasps escape as Dean worked and sighed in relief when he wrapped the fresh bandage around it, tucking the arm into Sam's lap.

"Ok." Dean handed him a glass of water and two pills. "Drink."

Sam opened his mouth to argue but saw the obstinate look on Dean's face and sighed. "Fine." He swallowed the pills and handed the glass back. Dean nodded and cleaned up the mess. He reached over to his own bed and pulled the laptop over, putting it next to Sam. "How about you research and I'll go pick up some supplies."

"Dude, I'm not gonna break." Sam rolled his eyes but pulled the laptop with him as he got comfortable on the bed, toeing his shoes off as he did. Dean only shook his head, grabbed his keys and left. "Jerk." Sam grumbled with a short laugh and pulled out the computer.

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"I'm beginning to think no one's ever made up their mind who built those ruins in the first place." Sam said, interrupting Dean's chuckle as the giant lizard on the television screen stomped mercilessly through downtown Tokyo. "I've got a couple articles that say it was built by the Seneca and some more who say it was the freakin Vikings."

"Vikings?" Dean perked up. "Cool. Maybe we'll get some Viking ghost to salt and burn. Never ganked a Viking."

Sam chuckled and wondered if he'd ever feel the love of the Hunt the way Dean did. "There's not much left intact above ground apparently but there's extensive catacombs under the place and it's right next to the lake so, probably gonna be a wet hunt."

"Fantastic." Dean groaned. Wet and cold and underground; three of his favorite things. "Any other fun facts I should know?"

"Just the usual ghost sightings in and around the ruins. There's really never been a lot of deaths around the place either til now." Sam frowned. "So something's changed."

"Or someone just wandered in and pissed it off, whatever it is." Dean flicked the TV off and stretched. "Let's get some shut-eye." He said, giving a steely glance to Sam who looked ready to spend all night hunched over the laptop. Dean reached across and pulled it from his hands.

"Dude, you're like a mother hen." Sam groaned but admitted to himself he wanted to lie down. He was sore, his arm ached and he thought maybe he was starting a slight fever as well, though he wasn't going to tell Dean that. He slid down under the blankets as Dean clicked off the light and gave a grateful sigh.

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Dean woke suddenly, senses alert that something had changed in the room. He turned his head to see Sam while his hand slid under his pillow to the knife he kept there. Sam's bed was empty, the covers thrown aside. Dean tensed and then saw a light under the bathroom door. He relaxed, sliding his hand out from under the pillow and sighed when he heard the clear sounds of retching.

"Dammit." Dean looked over at the clock, groaning to find it only three in the morning. He kicked the covers off and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and went to the bathroom, easing the door open.

Sam jerked at the hand that dropped to the back of his neck but couldn't take time to say he was fine in mid-heave. He didn't feel fine. He felt like crap and the hand of his brother was comforting in spite of his need to be independent; comfort born of a thousand similar touches over a lifetime and knowing that, as he sat back and spit the last of the bile from his mouth there would be a cloth in front of his face, and there was, followed by a glass of water.

"Thanks." Sam said hoarsely.

Dean frowned at the heat on the back of Sam's neck. "Come on, bigfoot. Let's get you back in bed." He pulled a wobbly little brother off the floor and steered him back out and let him flop on his bed. Dean went back and filled the glass again then dug the antibiotics out of the first aid kit, the last two and made a mental note to refill them later. "Here. Down the hatch."

Sam nodded and took the pills, swallowing the water hungrily against his dry throat. He snorted a laugh when Dean tossed his legs up on the bed and threw the blankets back over him. "Go back to sleep, Princess. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Bite me." Sam muttered from inside his pillow and made Dean snort.

"Not into rotten food, sorry Sammy." Dean tossed back and curled gratefully back up in his bed.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

"Dude, is this a town or a pit stop?" Dean asked irreverently as they drove into Jerusalem, New York at the crux of Y-shaped Keuka Lake. They'd seen little but vineyards on their way in though it was beautiful hilly and sometimes almost mountainous country with vineyards and ski slopes that dotted the hillsides in multi-colored checkerboards.

"You think this is small, wait til we get to Bluff point." Sam chuckled. "It's listed as a 'hamlet.'"

Dean snorted. "So a stop light and a post office." He shook his head and continued through the little town south, towards the end of the little peninsula. Ten minutes later, both men stared with wide eyes at what looked more like a retreat for the wealthy than a little hamlet. "Whoa."

"Yeah." Sam saw signs to a golf course, a marina on the lake, vineyards, several restaurants with more than one star by their names and something called Esperanza Mansion.

"Motel." Dean pointed and sighed, afraid they were going to have risk one of his questionable cards to get a room at the friggin mansion. Even the motel looked better than the fare they were used to. It was clean, the buildings and parking lot well-kept and in its center a small swimming pool, covered with a lurid green tarp for the fall weather that had descended early this year. He pulled up in front of the office, waving at Sam to wait and ran inside. He came back out a short while later shaking his head with a handful of brochures.

"What's all that?" Sam asked and Dean tossed them into his lap.

"Motel manager thinks we're here for the fall friggin foliage tour." Dean chuckled and pulled out, heading around to the side of the two-story, square building. "Said we're a couple weeks early and gave us a deal on the room cause he's so empty."

Sam flipped through the brochures and pulled out the one for the Bluff Point Ruins. "Well this might come in handy."

Dean pulled into a space and parked. "We're on the second floor on the end." He passed a key to Sam. "Go get the door open, I'll grab the bags."

"Dude I can carry my own bag." Sam argued and got out, waiting at the trunk. "I have two arms, remember?"

"Two freakish long arms." Dean teased and opened the trunk. "Have it your way."

The room, like the outside of the Motel, was clean. Paisley bedspreads covered the two queen size beds against the inside wall. The carpet was a dusky maroon as were the curtains on the window. However, it was clear the motel was used to tourists; the walls were covered in dozens of mounted fish of all sizes from only a few inches to what looked like a massive Catfish of several feet hanging over the beds.

"Whoa." Dean took it in and tossed his bag on the bed nearest the door out of habit, leaving Sam to walk around to the other. "It's like the Finding Nemo graveyard in here."

Sam smirked and reared back slightly when he looked up into the gaping maw of the Catfish. "Well, that's not creepy at all." He said, staring at the glassy eyes that seemed to follow him as he moved. "And when did you see Finding Nemo?" Sam asked on a laugh.

"What? I watch movies." Dean chuckled. "Those Seagulls are friggin hilarious."

"We should check the place it out while it's still daylight." Sam pulled a salt canister from the weapons bag on Dean's bed and started salting the door and window. "Get a good look at the crime scene."

"Scenes." Dean said softly. The day's paper had been sitting on the nightstand and the front page was a grisly picture of a third body discovered early that morning. He handed it to Sam and pulled the sawed off shotgun from the bag, loading salt rounds into the chambers.

"Damn." Sam groaned. "It was a cop man. They left a deputy behind to watch the place last night and found him this morning."

"Well that's gonna make this interesting." Dean set the gun down. "Definitely don't wanna go in as Feds then."

Sam shook his head. "Yeah, it'd piss them off. It's one of their own now." Dean rifled through a box of fake ID's and pulled two out, tossing one to Sam. "Dude, reporters? How is that not going to piss them off too?"

"Hey, it's better than being Feds and getting into a pissing contest. This way they can just shake their heads at us and ignore us." Dean grinned. "Come on, Jimmy. Let's go find us a story."

"You are so not Clark Kent." Sam chuckled and followed Dean out the door.

"Naw, Superman cheats. I'd rather be Batman." Dean grinned as Sam laughed and shut the door behind them.

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"So what was this place?" Dean asked, leading the way under the police tape and down a gulley towards the shore.

"Ancient stoneworks of some kind." Sam pulled an EMF meter from his pocket and turned it on. "There's old quarry works over the hill there." He pointed and then frowned when the meter started to whine. "Got some spikes here."

Dean looked up and around and saw no power lines to interfere. "So we got spooks for sure."

Sam nodded and trailed closer to one of the underground entrances, putting the meter through the bars in the Iron Gate. "It's stronger in here."

"Of course it is." Dean sighed and stopped. The gulley they walked in was more like an old road, cut right out of the rock and led straight down to the lake below. He could just see the waters sparkling green between two dilapidated stone buildings whose roofs had long crumbled away. He stood at a four way intersection and looked down either side, seeing nothing to pique his interest save the faded blood stains on the rock and gravel at his feet. He frowned, seeing little pegs in the ground with tiny flags. "Hey, Sammy. What are these?" Dean pulled one out and held it up.

"Looks like an Archaeologists' marker." Sam shrugged. "Probably one of the college kids."

"Where are the cops?" Dean asked suddenly. "I would have thought we'd have to sneak in here." He looked around but saw no one living save themselves.

"Maybe they don't want to risk anyone else until they know what happened?" Sam shrugged. "Crap! Dean!" Sam shouted as his right arm was grabbed and he was pulled into the iron gate, his shoulder slamming into the bars.

Dean was at his side instantly. "What is it? Can you see?" He took hold of Sam around his chest and pulled against the force holding him.

"Ghost!" Sam shouted. He could feel the icy fingers clasped around his arm, freezing his skin and braced his left hand against the bars, ignoring the pull of the stitches when his shoulder threatened to slip through.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted. He let go, pulled his shotgun and stuck the barrel through the bars above Sam's arm and fired. The explosion was loud in the confines of the tunnel and the gulley; echoing back at them and deafening them both. Sam fell backwards, his arm released and would have fallen to the ground if not for Dean stepping behind him; holding him up.

"You ok?" Dean asked, gun trained on the gate and Sam nodded.

"Yeah." He rubbed feeling back into his chilled arm. "Lost the EMF though. Sorry, man."

"Dammit!" Dean cursed and kicked a loose rock at the grate, listening as it skipped through and ricocheted inside. "Freakin ghosts!" He groaned. "I want my meter back." Dean stalked to the gate and studied the padlock.

Sam rolled his eyes. Dean had built the thing and wouldn't be happy until he had it back. Sam pulled his picks out of his pocket and pushed at Dean's shoulder. "One side. I'll get it open."

Dean nodded but stayed beside him, shotgun aimed steady through the bars. "Mr. Grabby Hands comes back I'm gonna have a message for him."

Sam snorted and worked on the lock. A moment later he had it open, pulling it off the gate and pushed it in with one hand. Dean took a flashlight from his pocket, shining it inside and smiled to see the meter was lying only a few feet in. "Nice." He stepped into the tunnel, wrinkling his nose at the dank smell inside and bent to retrieve it. He froze. A dragging sound came from further in, soft but distinct. "Sammy." Dean whispered.

Sam took a step toward his brother when he heard gravel slide on the slope above them. "Shit. Dean. There's something out here." More gravel fell on the path and Sam could clearly hear the heavy breaths of something large coming closer even as Dean backed out of the tunnel, gun pointed inside.

"Well this isn't going how I thought it would." Dean grumbled as he stepped back out into the daylight.

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_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER 3** _

Dean grunted in surprise when Sam's hand on his back shoved him back into the open doorway. He turned to say something and stopped when Sam held his hand out before looking up.

"What the hell are you doing down there, son?" The voice came from above and Dean backed up further, out of sight.

"Officer, I was just having a look around." Sam smiled up and stepped further away. The cop had appeared at the top of the rise directly above the gate and Sam was thankful Dean was out of sight with the shotgun.

"What the hell are you? Some kind of creepy murder junkie?" The cop asked fiercely. "Get the hell out of here before I run you in. I know you saw the crime scene tape."

Sam nodded and started up the slope, flicking his eyes briefly to meet Dean's, silently telling him to stay put. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Sam strode quickly up the hill. The cop met him at the top and angrily yanked up the yellow police tape. He watched Sam duck under and head back toward the parking lot before turning away. Sam heaved a sigh of relief. He'd have been hard pressed to explain why he was alone but didn't have the keys. He snorted; he wasn't feeling brave enough to hotwire Dean's baby just for one cop.

Dean hung back in the mouth of the tunnel, listening to his brother's and the cops footsteps fade. "Great." He muttered and edged toward the door. The last thing they needed was to get busted at a crime scene with a loaded gun, even one loaded with rock salt. He smirked; and wouldn't they have had fun explaining that to a cop. A groan sounded low behind Dean and he whirled, gun raised and flipped on his flashlight.

He couldn't see anything but that didn't mean much. Dean weighed his options; stay in the dark tunnel with the grabby ghost he couldn't shoot without alerting the cop or run outside and hope the cop didn't bust him getting back to the car. "Ah screw it." Dean growled and ducked outside, tucking the shotgun under his jacket to hide it as best he could. Rather than go up the way they came in, he took the side path and decided to circle around. He passed another gated door and came to a set of crumble down buildings.

"This is getting to be a little too much like hiking." Dean groused and climbed over the first tumbled stone wall, looking for purchase to get up to the higher slope where he knew the Impala and his brother were. He tossed the shotgun up, hearing it land with a clatter on the stone above. Dean climbed slowly up the wall. Just as his left hand reached the lip of the wall, a slithering sound below drew his attention. Dean looked down and jerked in surprise, almost losing his grip. An elongated, dark shape slithered into the base of the building.

"Holy crap." Dean watched wide eyed as it circled the small space and gasped when it reared back to look up at him. "Time to go." Dean lurched back to the wall and threw his right hand up over the edge, trying to find the shotgun and pull himself up at the same time. He could hear the creature hissing beneath him and hooked his elbow up on the ledge with a grunt, pulling himself higher. He shouted in surprise when something twined around his ankle, yanking him back. Dean held on with the barest of grips and looked down at the twisted black face and furred body just beneath him. The serpent was balancing its length along the wall and reaching tentacle like whiskers up to hold on to him. Narrow red eyes gleamed up at Dean in the gloom.

Dean flung his face into the wall as a shot exploded just above his head. The creature hissed in rage, letting go its hold on Dean's leg and he reached for the top again. This time his seeking hand slapped into a familiar forearm and he looked up to find Sam's worried face peering down at him.

"Dean! Climb!" Sam shouted. He dropped the shotgun in the gravel next to him and wrapped both hands around his brother's arm, heaving up. Sam grunted when Dean was yanked in his grasp again.

"Gun, Sam!" Dean yelled but Sam only shook his head.

Sam knew if he let go the creature would have Dean. "Climb!" Sam told him again and lay flat so Dean could use him like a ladder.

Dean kicked viciously at the black, furred head that neared him. It hissed, rearing back and released him again. Dean wasted no time. He climbed up to the top using Sam's arms and the rock wall and rolled himself out of the building and onto his brother.

"Holy crap." Dean said again, gasping. He was reaching for the gun when he felt Sam pulled beneath him. Dean spun and saw one of the creatures' tentacles had reached the ledge and found Sam, wrapping around his neck. "Oh hell no!" Dean lunged for the shotgun as his brother choked; Sam fighting a tug of war with his hands braced on the lip of the wall while the creature pulled from below. He was losing.

Dean wrapped one hand in the back of Sam's jacket, pulling and leaned out over the edge with the other. He fired the remaining barrel of the shotgun into the creature's face and thought he saw one red eye dim as it screamed and let go of Sam. "Come on, Sam." Dean rolled him over but Sam was in no shape to get up. Dean groaned, hearing the creature still thrashing below. He took hold of Sam's legs and pulled him bodily away from the edge.

"Hey! What the hell's going on?" The cop that had walked Sam out came toward them at a run. "Drop the weapon!" He sprinted the last few yards to the brothers, his handgun pulled and circled them.

"Officer, you really wanna stay away from the edge." Dean warned him, slowly placing the shotgun beside Sam on the ground and kneeling beside him.

"Where the hell did you come from?" The cop shouted, backing nearer to the edge. "What were those shots for? You shoot him? Back away!"

Dean growled and stayed where he was, one hand on Sam's chest. "He's my brother. I aint walkin' away and if you don't get the hell away from the edge you're gonna find out what happened."

The cops eyes narrowed and he turned to look down into the abandoned building. "Holy shit!" He exclaimed and fell backwards in his haste to get away. "What the hell?"

"Wish I knew." Dean muttered. "Sam?" He took his brother's face in his hands, feeling his pulse beating steadily beneath his hands. Around Sam's neck was a band of bruising from the creature. "Come on, buddy. Wake up. We gotta get the hell out of Dodge."

Sam's eyes fluttered and he groaned before cracking them to peer up blearily at his brother. "Dean." Sam groaned again and raised a shaking hand to his throat.

"Yeah. Triage later. We gotta go." Dean pulled Sam up so he was sitting and slid his right arm over his shoulders. "Gun." Dean nodded to the ground beside him and Sam dutifully picked it up. "Officer!" Dean shouted, making the man jerk. "You wanna live or you wanna wait for cuddles there to come up after you? Get over here!" The cop shook himself once, hard and went over to them. He took Sam's other arm without being told. "Watch that arm." Dean warned him. The cop nodded shakily and got a grip under Sam's shoulder instead. The three of them moved quickly away from the edge and up the hill.

"What was that thing?" The officer asked, glancing over his shoulder nervously as the area had gone quiet.

"Don't know yet." Dean sighed in relief when the Impala came into sight. "If I were you I'd stay the hell out of those ruins."

"He…ne needs an ambulance." The officer said as they reached the car and Dean swung the passenger door open.

"I'll take care of him." Dean took Sam's weight from the cop and folded him into his seat, drawing the seatbelt across him. "Thanks."

"Deputy Dooey." The Deputy said and rubbed a hand through his short brown hair as Dean smirked.

"Uh…really?" Dean was hard pressed not to tease the guy but, he'd helped save Sam and that earned him a one-time reprieve even though he was desperate to burst out laughing. Dean coughed and ducked his head. "Thank you…Deputy Dooey." Dean pushed the door shut and turned to him with a serious face. "Look, Deputy. What are you gonna tell the rest of the precinct?"

The Deputy looked back toward the ruins and shook his head slowly. "I uh…I don't know. I'll think of something." He looked back to Dean. "You should go."

Dean nodded, understanding and rounded the car, getting in the driver's side as the Deputy walked in a daze back to his squad car, gun held absently at his side.

"Hey, Sam, you back with me yet?" Dean reached over and tilted Sam's head up so he could see his face.

Sam let his head drop back onto the seat and got a hand up to massage his throat. "That…sucked." He said; voice hoarse.

Dean chuckled. "Let's get back to the motel before F-troop changes his mind." He started the car and backed hastily away. "Then we're gonna find out what the hell that thing was."

Sam nodded absently and thought he'd have no trouble recognizing the creature once he found it. It would be a long time before he forgot the image of the serpent's head rising up toward him, jaws wide as the strangle hold took his breath from him.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

"Hey scratchy." Dean tossed a cold beer to his brother when he looked up and grinned when he frowned at him. "It's medicinal. Make your throat feel better."

Sam rolled his eyes but took a grateful gulp of the cold beer anyway. He set it aside and pulled the laptop closer.

"You find Nagini yet?" Dean asked and settled back to fill more rock salt rounds. They hadn't killed the creature but they had deterred it, at least long enough.

Sam shook his head. "I will." Sam growled, voice low and hoarse and he rubbed at it. "I'm close." Sam had narrowed his search to Celtic creatures. The furred body was particular and rare for serpents. He flipped through site after site and had already gone through at least fifty entries. He clicked on another possibility and his eyes widened in recognition. "Found it."

"Nice." Dean limped over to the bed and sat beside him to look at the screen. "Well that's definitely our boy." The artists' rendering was an almost perfect match; black furred body, red eyes, long prehensile whiskers. "Wait…is that a horn?"

Sam nodded. "Says here it will sometimes stab or eviscerate its prey with a retractable horn. That explains the condition of the girl's body and the cops' this morning."

"Meanwhile the other college kid gets ganked by a damn ghost." Dean shook his head. "Just freakin awesome. What's this thing called?"

"Dobhar-Chu." Sam told him.

"Gezundheit." Dean replied and grunted when Sam elbowed him.

"That's it's' name dumbass." Sam smirked. "It's traditionally of Irish origin, resides in lakes, hunts on land, has a taste for humans."

"We can attest to that." Dean said ruefully and reached down to massage his aching ankle. "How do we gank it?"

"An Irish Skain." Sam pulled up an image of a small dagger. "Made of Bronze and stabbed into the creature's heart which…it's a serpent. That's not gonna be easy to find."

"So we have to track down something sharp and brass to stab it with." Dean got up and hobbled back to the table and his beer. "How's it get all the way over here from Ireland?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. I'm more concerned with what stirred up the ghosts and how many we're dealing with. I don't like not knowing how active the place is now, not with the Dobhar-Chu hunting the same grounds. Don't say it." Sam held up a hand, Dean's mouth poised open to say gezundheit again. Dean settled for a laugh and propped his foot up on the chair across from him, dropping the bag of ice he'd knocked off back on top of it.

"I'll go hunt us up some Brass knives tomorrow while you ask around; see if you can get any intel from the locals on ghost sightings." Dean smirked when Sam groaned.

"Sure, give me the talking job." Sam said ruefully, hand on his throat.

"Hey, I never underestimate those puppy dog eyes of yours, princess." Dean chuckled and ducked the pillow Sam threw at him. "Now what are you gonna sleep on?"

Sam smirked, reached his long arm over and snagged a pillow from Dean's bed, tucking it behind him and closed the laptop. "Night Dean." Sam said, too sweetly and pushed down beneath the blankets. He studiously did not look up; the stuffed catfish over the beds gave him the creeps.

"Smart ass." Dean muttered and finished off his beer before throwing the pillow onto his bed and briefly considered having a 'Poltergeist' moment with the damn fish; putting it out on the balcony. He laughed at himself and hobbled into the bathroom instead.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

"I'm telling you man. That fish is watching us." Sam said the next morning, watching the fish's glassy eyes as he moved from the bathroom to the bed and, eerily, they seemed to follow.

Dean gave a soft laugh and a quick look to the ugly thing. "Normally, I'd just tease you and call you a girly name but I don't like the damn thing either." Dean grabbed his clean clothes. "If you used all the hot water again, I _will_ kick your ass."

Sam laughed and shrugged. "It was still warm when I got out. I'm gonna walk into town. See if I can find a good place to find about spirits in the ruins."

Dean tossed him a wave over his shoulder. "Watch your back."

"Always." Sam replied. He gave a last, skittish look at the catfish; checked the salt lines were intact and then left. It was another cool day, bordering on cold as Sam jogged down the stairs. The Impala was still the only car on their side of the lot and he had to admit, she looked damn pretty gleaming in the morning sun all on her own; like she owned the place. He rolled his eyes at his own whimsy and headed out to the street.

He decided his first stop would be his tried and true; the Library and crossed the busy street. The library was only two blocks over. The wind picked up, blowing in off the lake and cooling the temperature even more as he walked, passing few people out to brave a walk in the early fall. The town library was a small affair but Sam found his attention pulled to the building on the side of it. The front windows were covered in a mish mash of ancient symbols from at least seven religions he could name right off and some symbols that were nonsense. The sign proclaimed it to be "Occult Protections" and Sam smiled. Odds are it was run by an idiot cashing in on people's paranoia but it could also be a goldmine for information on ghosts in the ruins. He passed the library and went to the Occult store, pulling open the door. Bells tinkled above his head as he closed it and a man's voice boredly called out.

"Welcome to Occult Protections where we keep the forces of evil at bay. How can I help you?"

Sam stepped around a ridiculous display of dream catchers to find a twenty-something young man behind a tall counter with a green Mohawk and clove cigarette dangling from his mouth. "Uh, hi. I had some questions about the Bluff Point Ruins?"

The kid perked up, looking up at Sam in surprise from the Batman comic book laid out in front of him. "Dude. You a ghost hunter?" He asked with a smile. "Cause I am, I mean, on the weekends you know. Huntin' the ghosties. I'm Ross by the way. So, you want something in particular? Maybe a charm? My little sister, she makes loads of them." He chuckled. "Triss is kinda crazy about them."

Sam waved his hands in the air to cut off the verbal diarrhea and laughed. "Just some questions. I need to know how many ghosts are active in the ruins, if you know."

"Totally, man." Ross stepped out from behind the counter, straightening his rather goofy t-shirt with Galileo's face made out of Lego blocks. "Come on back." Sam looked toward the street and Ross laughed. "Oh don't worry. Pretty much no one comes in here but tourists and it's still kinda early in the season for them. Come on. I got all sorts of info on those ruins. Man that place is whacked!" Ross kept up his external monologue as he led Sam into the back, making him chuckle in appreciation of how long the guy could go without taking a breath. Dean would have decked him by now.

"Ross." Sam broke in with a laugh. "Breathe."

Ross grinned and blushed lightly, brushing a hand over his Mohawk. "Sorry. Triss says I talk too much. Of course, she's my little sister so she's biased. Obviously." He rolled his eyes and went to the back wall of the little store room. He pulled a box down from the top shelf and set it on the little table. "This is like everything I've collected on ghosts in the ruins. I figure I've documented at least eight."

"You've seen them?" Sam asked, surprised but Ross blushed and ducked his head.

"Well, not seen, no. I've been looking man but they're like nervous or something." Ross popped the lid off the box. "But I keep track of articles and stuff tourists say when they come in here, you know. Cut it out, write it down and put it in the box." He showed Sam the contents proudly. "One of these days I'm gonna see one."

Sam shook his head in admiration of the amount of material Ross had collected and hooked a stool from the corner with his foot, sitting down. "This is good, Ross. Really good." Sam looked up at him earnestly. "You know, you shouldn't go out looking for ghosts. It's not safe."

Ross cocked a pierced eyebrow at him. "Not safe like you could trip in the dark? Or not safe like The Shining?"

Sam laughed loud, raising a hand to rub his bruised throat. "You know, I can't decide if my brother would love you or hate you." Sam shook his head. "Not safe like the Shining, Ross. Ghosts can be damn dangerous." Sam pointed to his neck and watched Ross' eyes widen in shock. "Shit like this can happen."

"Whoa." Ross stared at the ring of bruising around Sam's throat. Contrary to Sam's intention, he saw a light of excitement in the kids' eyes and sighed. Some people just wouldn't accept the danger until it bit them. He hoped Ross lived to regret it later. "How about you walk me through all this?" Sam pulled the first stack of papers out of the box and Ross immediately went back to his talkative self.

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Dean stepped out of the shower, dressed and ready to go and thankful his ankle had stopped aching so badly. He pulled on his jacket and gave the mounted Catfish a dirty look as he walked out the door and thumped into the chest of a large police officer.

"Uh…morning?" Dean said, giving a lopsided grin that had no effect on the dour face peering down at him.

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_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

_**CHAPTER 4** _

"What the hell kinda crap did you fill my Deputy's head with?" The Policeman, and Dean saw the Sheriff's badge prominent on his chest, glared at Dean from his inch taller height.

"Pretty sure I haven't shoved crap in anyone's head lately." Dean sniffed his hands and looked up with a smirk. "Nope. No crap here."

"Keep it up, smart-ass." The Sheriff put a meaty hand on Dean's shoulder and turned him toward the stairs. "You're coming down to the station with me. I have some questions."

"Right." Dean pulled the door shut behind him and swaggered to the stairs and down.

"Where's the other one?" The Sheriff growled and Dean shrugged.

"Probably out walking on the grass or something." Dean said flippantly, enjoying the growl that came back at him.

"Squad car, pal." The Sheriff pointed and Dean shook his head, going to the Impala and leaning against her hood.

"No way, Sheriff. Not unless you're arresting me for something." Dean raised a brow. "Are you arresting me for something?"

"Not yet." The Sheriff said in a low voice.

"Then I guess I'll drive myself. You can follow." Dean grinned again and turned, getting into his car and started the engine. The Sheriff glared at him as he backed out and turned toward the street before throwing himself into his squad car and following. Follow he did, riding Dean's bumper the entire short drive and Dean was tempted more than once to brake check the idiot but didn't want to buff the scratches out of his bumper.

The Police station was a small affair, only one story and Dean pulled in between two cruisers, leaving the sheriff to find his own damn spot. He knew he was pushing the guy's buttons and Sam would smack him if he were there but Sam was elsewhere and Dean…well Dean only had respect for one authority figure and the overweight, over-tall badge stalking toward him as he got out of the car was definitely NOT him.

"Follow me." The Sheriff growled at him.

Dean wisely said nothing this time and fell in behind him. Thinking of his father had reminded him that getting locked up for being an ass would not win him any points if his Dad found out and he always did. Dean pushed through the door behind him and into the bullpen. Several cops looked up with disinterest from their desks except for Deputy Dooey who jumped from his seat when he saw Dean.

"Sheriff Bilkes? Um…" Dooey started but the Sheriff waved him silent as they passed.

"Shut it, Deputy. I'll talk to you later." Sheriff Bilkes strode past and opened a door to what looked suspiciously like an interview room. Dean had seen plenty of them over the years and he made himself comfortable in the rickety plastic chair behind the dented table.

"So what's this all about, Sheriff?" Dean asked; smiling complacently while the Sheriff slammed the door and then took what he probably thought was an intimidating stance opposite Dean. He barely resisted snorting a laugh.

"You think this is funny boy?" Sheriff Bilkes demanded and Dean threw his hands out.

"Dude I don't even know why I'm here yet." Dean raised his brows. "You wanna clue me in?"

"My Deputy comes back from a routine check at the ruins with some bullshit story about a giant snake and two guys who saved his ass." Sheriff Bilkes grew red in the face. "I don't know what kind of screwy prank you pulled but that dumb kids' out there scared to death of going back! Now, here's what's gonna happen slick." The Sheriff leaned across the table. "I'm gonna bring Deputy Dumbass in here and you're gonna tell him it was all a joke. You tell him how you did it cause he sure as hell aint listening to me!"

Dean's jaw dropped in surprise and he shook his head, smiling finally. "Wow." He shrugged. "Sure whatever, Sheriff. Bring him in. I'll talk to the kid."

The Sheriff studied him for a moment and then left. Dean whistled softly and chuckled, sitting back with his hands behind his head to wait. He sat up straight when Sheriff Bilkes quickly returned, the Deputy a step behind.

Dean stood and held his hand out. "Deputy Dooey." Dean gave his hand a friendly shake, ignoring the Sheriff beside him. "I wanted to thank you for your help yesterday. Couldn't have gotten the sasquatch back to the car without you."

The Deputy smiled cautiously, flicking a glance at the reddening face of his boss. "Uh…is your brother okay? I mean, his neck looked bad."

"He's fine." Dean smiled at both men, widening the grin for the Sheriff's benefit since he looked like he was about to have a heart attack. "I don't know where that damn snake came from but if Deputy Dooey here hadn't come along when he did, we'd have been lunch." Dean exaggerated a bit but the Sheriff rubbed him wrong and he figured the kid deserved a break. "Saved our asses."

"You son of a…"

"Careful Sheriff." Dean grinned.

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Sam held a carton of research under his right arm as he walked back to the motel. Eyes roaming the town his eyes startled wide when he saw the Impala parked in front of the police station. "Oh crap." Sam groaned. He rolled his eyes to the sky for patience and changed direction. "Please tell me I don't have to bail you out for something stupid, Dean." Sam grumbled as he crossed the street and jogged to the station door. Inside the bull pen, a few bored cops looked up as he entered. The nearest rose and waved.

"Something we can help you with, sir?" The officer asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm looking for my brother. His car's parked out front." Sam's head tilted to the side when he heard a man yelling in frustration and sighed. "Never mind, I think I know where he is." He followed the sound to an interview room and peeked through the window. Inside were Deputy Dooey, a really big guy who looked like the Sheriff and his brother, grinning like an idiot.

"Sir, you can't go in there." The officer followed him over.

"Could you then? Let my brother know I'm out here?" Sam gave him his best pleading expression and saw the cop shrug, giving in. "Thanks." The officer opened the door and slipped inside while someone, the Sheriff probably was still lighting into his brother at top volume. The yelling broke off and the door slammed open. Sam took a step back in surprise when the Sheriff all but jumped out and grabbed his arm.

"You!" The Sheriff glared and tugged, pulling him into the room.

Sam did his best to hide the gasp of pain. The Sheriff's steely grip was clamped over the stitches on his left arm making spots dance in Sam's vision. "Sheriff." Sam said calmly and shook his head quickly at Dean when he saw his brother's eyes darken dangerously. Dean never handled it well when someone hurt him, however inadvertently. "Let go please."

Sheriff Bilkes dropped his arm and fixed him with a steely glare. "How about you tell me what the hell happened yest…" The Sheriff trailed off, eyes widening as he spotted the distinct bruising on Sam's throat. "What the hell?"

"It was the snake, Sir." Deputy Dooey nodded. "Almost choked him to death."

Sam quickly put two and two together. Deputy Dooey had told his commander the truth and the Sheriff hadn't believed it for one second. "He's right, Sheriff." Sam said, moving to stand beside Dean. His brother took the box from him and tapped his left arm. Sam gave a minute shake of his head to say 'not now' and looked back to the Sheriff. "I don't really remember anything after it wrapped around my neck until I woke up in the car."

"We're leaving, Sheriff." Dean said, no humor left in his tone. "We haven't done anything wrong and your Deputy did his duty. You got any more questions, you know where to find us. Come on." Dean gave Sam a nudge toward the door and left while the Sheriff was tongue tied still processing the visual evidence of Sam's throat.

"What the hell happened?" Sam asked as soon as they were outside.

"Sheriff didn't like Dooey's story and stopped by real nice to ask about it." Dean deadpanned and got in the car. He tossed the box in the back seat. As soon as Sam got in, he grabbed his brother's arm and pushed up his sleeve, growling at the spots of blood dotting the bandage there. "Son of a bitch."

"He didn't know, Dean." Sam reasoned and took his arm back. "It's fine."

"You went dead white in there, Sammy." Dean told him. "Thought you were gonna faint right there."

"I don't faint." Sam argued. "Girls faint."

"I rest my case." Dean smiled and pulled out of the police station, heading back to the motel while Sam glared at him.

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"Fifteen? Fifteen ghosts. Are you sure?" Dean looked through the stack of research Sam had brought back and shook his head. "Holy crap."

"Well, it's an estimate. It's all hearsay." Sam readjusted his arm, trying to find a comfortable position for it on the table beside the laptop. Dean had cleaned it again, thankful none of the stitches had pulled but it was still damn painful and newly bruised…again. "Ross, the guy in the shop? It's his research and he's not exactly picky about the details." Sam chuckled. "You'd like him."

Dean snorted. "Right, dude probably lives in his mom's basement and he runs a friggin occult shop? I'd hate him." Dean tossed aside the grainy photos of the ruins from overhead that he'd been studying and sighed. "I gotta go find us a couple bronze knives still. You stay here." Dean said as Sam started to rise with him. "We'll go back out to the ruins tomorrow. Cops are probably still watching the area anyway."

Sam settled back and nodded. "I'll keep digging on Ross' research. See if I can back up any of the stuff he's found. If I can narrow down graves, maybe we can cut down on the ghost population."

"Honestly, they're not my first priority right now." Dean pulled on his jacket. "That damn snake's gotta go. Stay out of trouble." Dean said over his shoulder as he left and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Same goes, jerk." Sam said to the closed door and leaned back, wincing as he shifted his arm. The longer he sat there alone with only the laptop to keep him company, the more he thought the damn fish was watching him again. "Damn you are one creepy fish." Sam rose and changed chairs so his back was to the beds, sparing him having to look at the big glassy eyes.

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Dean counted them lucky that Bluff Point was in the back of beyond because it pretty much guaranteed that there'd be a store somewhere to cater to yuppie hunters. He asked at the gas station around the corner from their motel and ten minutes later was parking with a smile in front of the local gun club. Black Bear season had just started and the front of the store was papered with information on license fees and weapon suggestions. He walked inside and breathed deep the scent of gun oil and cordite from the test range in the back of the shop with a grin.

"Can I help you son?" The man behind the long counter called. He looked like an aging biker, tattoos crawling up both arms beneath his short sleeves, peeking out of the neck of his shirt and earrings rode both earlobes. Dean nodded and stepped up, looking over the large caliber guns behind the counter with yearning.

"Yeah. Hope so." Dean grinned and started in on the story he'd concocted in the car. "I got some yuppie idiots wanna go Black Bear hunting this weekend and got a weird request."

The big guy rolled his eyes in sympathy. "Get a lot of those around here." He stuck out a hand. "Jack."

"Dean." Dean shook his hand and nodded. "So, two of them want Bronze knives." Dean chuckled when Jack snorted in disgust and shook his head.

"Weekend hunters. They pay my bills but man they are all kinds of stupid." Jack laughed. "Happens I got just what you need. Hang on." Jack went through a small door into the back of the shop and Dean grinned. He amused himself looking at the elephant gun on top of the back wall and wondered if he could convince Sam it would be useful in a hunt. "You thinkin' of taking out a yuppie with that cannon?" Jack laughed as he came back and Dean grinned.

"I've had worse ideas." Dean watched as Jack laid out two boxes on the counter and opened one. "Oh nice." Dean took the long knife from the box, appreciating the color of the blade and the workmanship of the hilt. "Solid bronze or bronze plated?" He asked, testing the weight of the knife and liking it.

"Oh they're solid." Jack nodded. "Usually only get call for these when the Highland Gathering's in the area in June. Irish Skains were standard wear with a kilt in the 18th century." He smirked at the look on Dean's face. "Wanna make money, you gotta know this stuff."

Dean laughed. "Well I'll take 'em." He pulled out his wallet and fished out the latest bogus credit card. He hoped Jack would actually get paid, he liked the guy.

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Dean flopped onto his bed with a groan. Sam was burning a fever, though not a high one but enough to make his little brother miserable, slightly out of it and worse; sporting puppy dog eyes at him. The cut on his arm had taken too much abuse and developed an infection. Sam was curled on his side in his bed now, arm cradled against his stomach beneath the blankets Dean had tucked around him and sleeping with a frown on his face. Dean sighed and closed his eyes, willing himself to follow Sam into sleep and get some much needed rest before the nightmares he knew would come woke Sam screaming. His little brother had enough trouble getting sleep without being feverish and sick.

Sam was already sliding into the familiar dream. He shut the apartment door behind him, called for Jess. He smiled at the plate of cookies left lovingly out for him and followed the sound of the shower turning on into the bedroom. He'd missed her. As good as it had been hunting with his brother again and he'd admit somewhere deep down he'd missed that too, coming home to Jess was all he needed. He sat on their bed and let himself fall back to wait for her, warm and wet from the shower, eager to show her just how happy he was to be home and safe with her again.

He jerked when the first drop hit his head, opened his eyes when the second plopped above his eyes and terror ate his world. Jess, his Jess was trapped on the ceiling above him, a silent scream on her face. His childhood came back to him and a distant, barely remembered image seen with infant eyes overlaid his love. He screamed her name and felt the heart drop out of him when he saw her eyes and knew she was still alive, still conscious and pleading with her eyes for him to save her. Flames erupted around her and she began to burn.

Sam screamed her name, watching the horror play itself out above him and then gasped at an unfamiliar sensation. He began to sink. He felt himself sinking into the blankets, the mattress beneath him. Something pulled him downward, the sheets wrapped around him and over him. Jess was soon taken from his sight and Sam thrashed with the need to escape, to save her. The folds of fabric closed over his head and he couldn't breathe. He gasped in confusion when the blankets and bedding turned to water, rushing around him, surrounding him and stealing his breath.

Dean woke with a start as Sam's cry filled the room. "Sam." He reached over and flipped the light on, swinging his legs out of the bed. Sam thrashed beneath the blankets, called Jess' name again breaking Dean's heart a little and then as Dean watched, his brothers' shape under the covers began to sink and in a moment vanished altogether leaving the blankets to collapse to the mattress. "Sam!"

Dean lurched to the other bed and ripped back the blankets. He stared in shock. The bed was wet, not damp but swimming in water, a Sam sized puddle left in the mattress. "What the hell?" The steady drip-drip of water drew Dean's eyes up to the creepy mounted Catfish above their beds. Water dripped from its head down to Sam's bed and the fish looked…wet, as though it would wriggle at any moment. "You have got to be kidding me." Dean breathed. He spun and pulled his knife out from under his pillow and ran to the room door. The fish was wet, the bed was wet and Dean followed the line of logic. If the damn fish wanted to drown Sam then there was only one body of water close by. He sprinted the second floor balcony around the building until he could see the covered pool in the middle of the motel. His gut was telling him he was right and he took the stairs three at a time, skidding to a stop beside the pool in the frigid moonlight. "Sam!" He called. He heard a strangled, gurgling cry from beneath the lime green cover and near its center something pushed up at it and fell away again. "Shit!" He dropped to his knees and used his knife to start sawing a long opening in the tarp.

Sam reflexively gagged in a mouthful of water, trying to cough and frantically kicked toward the surface. Panic was choking him as surely as the cold water. His head bumped something on the water's surface and he shoved frantically at it to no effect. It was heavy and kept him from getting even a breath. He couldn't tell if he was awake or still dreaming, still trapped in a nightmare. More water was pulled into his lungs as he coughed and couldn't stop himself. He began to lose the battle, sinking away from the surface, blackness closing in on him. He opened his mouth again, trying to call out for Dean but only sucked in more water.

He startled when he felt something viselike close around his upper arms and pull him. Sam struggled against the hold weakly and then stopped when an arm slipped across his chest. Dean. He knew it was his brother and he let himself be pulled, fighting not to suck in any more water. A moment later Sam's head broke the surface and he gasped and gagged.

"Hang on, Sammy." Dean coughed water and dragged Sam to the edge of the pool. He propped Sam's arms in the gutter and pulled himself out. "Ok, Sam. Ok." Dean reached down, gripping his brother beneath the arms and heaved him up. Dry, he was heavy enough but sodden wet and Dean was sure his shoulders were going to pop out of their sockets as he gave a mighty pull and got his gasping brother up onto the concrete. "Sam." Dean rolled him into his arms, setting him up and thumped him hard on the back until Sam was coughing out volumes of water that made his own chest hurt. Once Sam was reduced to panting Dean let his head fall into Sam's hair and just held him there for a minute. "Sam? You ok?" It took a moment but Sam nodded his head finally. "Son of a bitch that was close."

"What?" Sam croaked and coughed.

Dean shook his head and leaned back to get a better look at him. "That damn fish is friggin possessed or something! Come on." Dean stood on legs shaking with adrenaline and pulled Sam to his feet. He swayed and leaned heavily into Dean.

"Knew…I hated…that fish." Sam gasped. He got an arm up over Dean's shoulders and let him lead him away from the pool, two sets of bare feet slapping wetly on the stairs as they slowly made their way back up and around the building to their room. The door still stood open and Dean eased Sam in, laying him on his own bed. "Gimme a sec."

Dean stalked around the bed and glared at the now dry Catfish. He reached up and pried it from the wall, not as easy as he thought it would be. Dean grunted with the effort and finally it came free, stumbling him backwards a few steps under its weight. He went to the open door and threw the fish out the door, listening to it thunk into the railing and clatter to the walkway with a satisfied grin. "I'll finish with you later." Dean slammed the door on its glassy gaze and turned back to Sam. "Me and the manager are gonna have a little chat tomorrow." Dean promised. He went around to Sam's bed and stared in surprise. "I'll be damned." He pulled the blanket back and ran his hand over a now pristinely dry mattress, not a drop of water remained.

"Guh…Dean." Sam jerked upright, face going green.

"Crap. Don't puke in my bed, Carol-ann." Dean grabbed him and steadied Sam as he stumbled to the bathroom and proceeded to puke out the rest of the pool water in gasping heaves. "Okay, buddy." Dean soothed, holding Sam up when he finally collapsed with exhaustion. "Let's get you to bed."

Sam nodded, too weak to speak and let Dean pull him up again and all but carry him out and settle him back in his own bed. He looked up at the now empty wall and sighed in relief, letting his eyes close as Dean pulled the blanket over him with shaking hands. "M'okay, Dean." Sam mumbled.

"Yeah I know." Dean laid Sam's left arm out and started gently peeling off the sodden bandage there. "Get some sleep." The longer they stayed in this town, the less Dean liked it. He had an urge to pile his brother in the car and just leave but their father's voice stopped him. Dad would never leave a job unfinished, not when people were dying. "Dammit, Sammy." Dean muttered and sighed. He'd just have to do a better job of watching out for him, evil possessed dead fish notwithstanding. This was one screwy town.

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_To Be Continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

_**CHAPTER 5** _

Sam groaned awake and then gasped, sitting up fast enough to make his head spin as he remembered the events of last night.

"Whoa, easy Sam." Dean dashed over from the table and clasped Sam's bare shoulder firmly. "No evil fish here. You're safe."

Sam dropped his head into his hand, dizzy and too warm and nodded. "Right." He glanced down and raised his brows. "Dude, when did I take my clothes off?"

Dean snorted. "You didn't. Your awesome big brother took one for the team so you didn't sleep in sopping clothes and wake up with the damn plague or something."

Sam turned several shades of red, grateful to feel his boxer briefs still on. At least he didn't have that visual in his head to deal with. "Thanks." Sam managed and pushed the blanket back.

"Where you think you're going?" Dean asked, concerned. Sam was somehow managing to be pale and red at the same time and the glassy look in his eyes was disconcerting.

"Bathroom." Sam swung his legs to the floor. "Gotta go and no, I can do it myself." He smirked at Dean and stood…then promptly sat back down as the floor tilted beneath him. "Dammit."

Dean shook his head and pulled Sam back up, holding on and guided him to the bathroom in a weaving path. He stopped at the door and smirked when Sam firmly shut it on him with a muttered thank you. He checked the salt lines at door and window and decided now was a good time to go have that little chat with the motel owner when he heard the shower turn on. Dean cracked the bathroom door.

"Sam. I'm gonna go down and talk to the manager. Salt lines are good." Dean told him. Sam waved an arm from inside the shower. "Don't drown." Dean ordered with a laugh and left him alone.

The mounted Catfish was still where Dean had left it the night before. He glared down at the thing. "You and me are gonna have some alone time soon pal." Dean told it and wrapped his fingers around the zippo in his pocket in anticipation as he headed down the stairs and to the office. If anything, it was colder today than it had been, the temperature taking an early dive into the upper thirties. Dean pulled his coat tighter against the bite in the air. He sighed gratefully when he opened the door to the office and warm air met him.

"Mr. Winchester." The manager smiled at him from behind his counter. He wasn't much older than Dean. Black hair and brown eyes in a tanned face said some of his ancestors had to be Native American and when he smiled; his eyes vanished behind the high cheekbones. "What can I do for you?"

Dean leaned against the counter and smiled. "I had to ask. There's this massive Catfish mounted over our beds. Where the hell'd that thing come from?"

The manager, his badge said Norman, nodded and smiled sadly. "My Uncle caught it when I was a kid." He chuckled. "Dad said it took him two hours to reel it in. He used to own this place."

"It's a hell of a fish." Dean grinned.

"Yeah." Norman sighed. "Dad had it mounted and hung it when he got back. My Uncle died on that trip."

Ah ha. Dean said silently to himself, brows rising. "Sorry to hear that. What happened? If you don't mind my asking."

"No, no." Norman smiled again. "Uncle Joe drowned. Dad said he caught the fish and it knocked him overboard and he drowned. He must have gotten wrapped up in seaweed on the bottom or something."

"Why's that?" Dean asked, sensing something off.

"Oh Uncle Joe was a damn good swimmer. He's the one who taught me." He shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder if this place would even still be here if Uncle Joe had lived. He was thinking of selling the Motel, moving to Florida." He chuckled and Dean plastered a friendly smile on his face while inside bells were going off.

"Huh. So where's your Dad now?" Dean looked closely at the picture behind the desk of two men on a fishing boat and knew who they were now.

"Oh he passed a few months ago." Norman sniffed and pointed to an Urn on a high shelf. "Cancer."

Dean nodded, looking at the Urn and shook himself. "Sorry to drag stuff up." He smiled. "Thanks, I was just curious about the fish."

"Oh it's no problem." Norman gave himself a shake. "You know I don't usually put people in that room." He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. "I didn't realize that's where I'd put _you_ til the next day." He laughed nervously. "Honestly, Uncle Joe's fish kinda creeps me out. Always feel like its watching me."

"No kidding." Dean gave him a short wave and went back outside. He jogged past the pool and it's now torn cover, flipping it off absently as he passed. When he reached their room he gave a light kick to the mounted fish before going inside.

Sam was flopped face down on his bed. He'd managed to get himself dressed but his energy had run out before he could get his shoes on. "What'd you find out?" He asked, turning his head to watch his brother as he shut the door behind him.

"Well, our fish was caught by the manager's uncle and unless I'm wrong, and I'm not, his dear old Dad offed his uncle to get the motel before he could sell it." Dean grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat at the table. "Get this. His Dad died a few months back and the manager has his friggin ashes in an Urn in the rental office."

Sam groaned. "Great, but why the fish?"

Dean grinned and toasted the empty wall over their beds. "Uncle Joe caught that monster on the same trip where his brother drowned his ass. Then Daddy dearest comes home, mounts the thing and hangs it in here."

Sam groaned and rolled until he was sitting on the side of the bed. "We need to find where his Dad's buried then." He wiped a hand over his face and shook himself, trying to find energy. "Salt and burn him along with his damn fish. Tonight."

Dean chuckled and nodded. "Yep. The snake's gonna have to wait a night. I don't like knowing Uncle Joe's lurking out there for revenge on a dead guy."

"At least we don't have to worry about the manager's Dad." Sam pushed up and sat heavily at the table, pulling his laptop over. "I'll find his grave. Just give me a minute."

Dean frowned and reached over, slapping a hand to Sam's forehead. It was quickly batted away but Dean scowled. "Dude, you've got a fever still."

"It's fine." Sam rolled his eyes.

"It's that damn cut the Hookman gave you." Dean growled. He went and pulled the first aid kid from his bag and set it beside Sam. "Gimme." Sam sighed but put his arm out, too tired to argue and he could just as easily research while Dean cleaned it again.

Dean unwound the bandages and frowned at the angry red around the wound under the stitches. At this rate Sam was gearing up for a trip to the ER for sepsis if he couldn't get the infection under control. Though he was barely touching, Sam winced and flinched as his fingers gently pushed at the stitches, blood oozing in droplets in a couple places. "Sorry." Dean muttered. "It's infected, Sam." He saw Sam's head drop, heard the sigh. "I know. It sucks but I gotta do it or you can go to the ER. Your choice."

"Aw hell." Sam looked over at the obviously unhealthy cut and shrugged. "I'd rather have you do it."

Dean nodded and took the little scissors from the kit, bending over his brother's arm and started clipping the neat row of stitches. He would have to reopen the wound and disinfect it again. It would be damn painful but if he did it right and they could keep the damn thing clean for more than a day, it would heal properly.

Sam did his best to focus all his attention on the computer screen and ignore the burning, tugging sensations in his arm as Dean worked. He could feel the sweat that broke out on his face. Typing one handed helped him focus. He had just found the cemetery record for the motel manager's Uncle Joe when Dean poured disinfectant in the newly opened wound.

"Crap." Sam hissed and jerked on his arm but Dean held it firm.

"Sorry, buddy. Once more." Dean kept a firm grip on Sam's wrist and irrigated the wound as thoroughly as he could. Sam dropped his head into his other hand and gave up, just breathing through the pain as Dean swabbed it with alcohol and started putting in a fresh row of stitches. Dean wrapped a fresh bandage around Sam's arm and then dropped a hand on the back of his neck. "Ok, kiddo. All done."

"I found him." Sam said, eyes still closed and not moving his head yet. "Found his grave."

"Okay. We'll get him tonight. You need to get a couple hours sack time before we go dig him up." Dean tugged his brother out of the chair and pushed him gently towards his bed. "No arguments. You can't watch my back tonight if you're this out of it."

It was probably the only thing Dean could have said that would have made Sam go without argument. He understood the logic and had no intention of letting Dean do the salt and burn on his own, not with a ghost that had already proven himself homicidal. "Okay." Sam muttered and crawled in his bed, planting his face in the pillow wearily.

Dean tugged the blanket over Sam's long frame and sighed. Some days the kid just couldn't catch a break. He checked the salt lines again for the third time, peeked out the window at the mounted fish now covered with a towel he'd tossed over it and nodded; satisfied.

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Dean took a break, leaning against the side of Uncle Joe's grave and wiped a grimy arm over his brow. "Pass the water, Sam." He called up. He'd kicked Sam out of the digging a half hour earlier before he could pull any of the new stitches. He hadn't gone without an argument and stood now leaning against the headstone and the salt covered bundle that was the mounted catfish. Dean was taking no chances.

"Here." Sam tossed a bottle down. "You're almost there. Come out and I'll finish."

"Nope." Dean grinned up and tossed the empty bottle back up. "I'm almost there." He smirked at the bitch face Sam gave him and took up his shovel again. A few more shovels full of dirt and he hit wood. "Yahtzee." He raised the shovel up and slammed the edge of the blade down hard, cracking aging wood and made short work of the lid of the coffin, revealing the desiccated bones beneath. "Toss me the fish, Sam." He looked up. "Sam?"

A shotgun blast answered him and Dean scrambled up out of the grave. "I'm ok." Sam sat up beside the headstone, a rueful grin on his face. "Popped up right in front of me." He laughed.

Dean smirked. "Dude, you fell?" He laughed and tugged the salt covered bundle of fish over to him, dropping it into the grave.

"I slipped." Sam argued.

"You fell." Dean grinned and dusted his hands. "Such a girl." He caught the salt canister Sam threw at his gut with a grunt and a laugh. "Throw like one too."

"I can kick your ass." Sam growled and stood but he was smiling and embarrassed. He _had_ fallen right off the back of the headstone in surprise when Uncle Joe appeared. He pulled the lighter fluid out of the duffel and stood, watching for the ghosts return while Dean poured salt in on the bones. "Guy looked pissed."

Joe the ghost loomed up once more on the other side of the grave as Dean grabbed the lighter fluid from Sam and started pouring it in. The shotgun echoed beside Dean, blasting the irate spirit into bits a second time.

"Damn he does look pissed." Dean chuckled and set aside the fluid bottle. "Well now he can go be pissed somewhere else." He pulled out a book of matches and lit one, setting the whole book alight and tossed it down into the grave. Flames leaped up from the bones and mounted fish, making a warm glow in the middle of the cemetery. Dean irreverently warmed his hands over the flames. "Good riddance."

"Think the manager's gonna be pissed when he finds that fish gone?" Sam asked, packing up the salt and lighter fluid and shotgun before picking up his shovel. He stood beside Dean and waited for the flames to die down.

"Don't much give a crap." Dean shrugged. "I know, not his fault. Aw I'll tell him it fell or something. I don't think he's actually gonna mind much." He chuckled. "He did say that fish gave him the creeps." He picked up his own shovel as the last of the flames slowly flickered away. "Let's fill this in." It had taken them almost two hours to dig it out. Thankfully, the filling in part always went fast and a half hour later they were strolling through the quiet graveyard back to the Impala.

"You know, it's only one in the morning." Sam said as they reached the car and stowed the shovels in the trunk. "Plenty of time to take a drive by the ruins. We've got the knives now."

"No way are we chasing that thing in the dark." Dean shook his head definitively. "We'll go in tomorrow in daylight. End of discussion." He slammed the trunk shut and left Sam glaring at him, bristling at being ordered. He hated doing it to him but Sam could be as single-minded as their Dad; while Sam was willing to ignore injuries for a hunt, Dean wasn't going to let him. He needed another night to heal.

"Fine." Sam muttered and got in beside Dean. "You know, we should be partners, Dean."

Dean snorted. "We are." He smirked over at Sam. "But I'm still in charge." He gunned the engine to cut off any retort.

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The Bluff Point Ruins didn't look any more inviting the next day as Dean and Sam hiked in from where they'd hid the car. They'd driven by once, happy to not find any cops keeping watch and decided things were looking up.

"Let's head down toward the water." Sam checked his shotgun, making sure it was loaded properly with rock salt. They knew it wouldn't kill the Dobhar-Chu but it had proven effective at distracting it. "These things are supposed to be water dwellers, only coming on land to feed."

Dean nodded and patted the bronze blade hanging at his hip. "We stay together. I'm not letting it pick us off. It's too damn fast." Sam agreed and made no argument. It would take both of them to kill it. They strode down the path they had taken on their last visit as it provided an almost straight shot to the shore. The afternoon was a cold one, the temperature had dropped enough that Dean could almost smell snow in the air. He had the EMF detector in his pocket and turned on so he'd hear it whine if a spirit got too close. In air that cold, seeing their breath was moot as a means of detection. The breeze coming in off the lake had a bite to it and they could feel their cheeks reddening and going numb.

"Dibs on the first hot shower when we get back." Dean said suddenly in the silence and made Sam chuckle.

"Focus, Dean." Sam shook his head, senses alert, highly amused and wondered if he could beat his brother into the motel room and get the shower first.

"Nope, you're not fast enough." Dean told him, guessing what Sam had been thinking and chuckled. He stopped and whirled as pebbles clattered on the path behind and above them. Two shotguns leveled up in the noonday sun.

"What in the hell are you two doing?" Sheriff Bilkes appeared from one of the paths cutting off theirs, his hand jumping to his sidearm. "Drop em boys."

"Dammit, Sheriff!" Dean lowered his gun but didn't drop it. "Are you trying to get dead?"

"What?" The Sheriff scowled. "Don't tell me. You two idiots are actually hunting that giant snake of yours? You're crazier than I thought." He pulled the radio off his shoulder. "I'm calling in backup and you boys are gonna spend some quality time answering questions down at the station."

"Sheriff…" Sam lowered his gun, putting out a placating hand but got no further. The Dobhar-Chu appeared suddenly on the rise above them. It hissed menacingly and they watched all the blood drain out of the Sheriff's face in shock.

"Holy crap!" Sheriff Bilkes gasped. He fumbled for his gun and dropped it as the giant snake pounced down and slammed into him. Two shotguns exploded together, hitting the creature near its head. It backed away from the Winchesters and instead, turned its fierce glare on the Sheriff. They watched, stunned as a horn grew from the center of its head and had no time to call out a warning before the creature had speared through Bilkes' chest. The Sheriff gave a pained, gurgling cry.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted and ran forward, unloading the other barrel into its head and drew his Bronze knife, feeling Sam at his back.

"Dean!" Sam shouted in warning. The Dobhar-Chu's tail whipped out toward them, sweeping their legs from them. Dean thumped into the wall as Sam went sprawling further down the path. Sam rolled to his knees, looking for his shotgun and cried out again as the creature wrapped a coil around his brother. Sheriff Bilkes' body still hanging like a macabre puppet from its horn; the Dobhar-Chu plunged into the open entry to the tunnels, dragging Dean behind it in the grip of its coils. "DEAN!"

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_To Be Continued…  
_


	6. Chapter 6

_**CHAPTER 6** _

Sam stumbled to his feet and scooped up the shotgun as he ran for the tunnel entrance. The path in front of it was sprayed with the late Sheriff's blood. He saw Dean's shotgun and grabbed that too, tucking it into his belt and pulled out his flashlight.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as he entered the darkness, heedless of spirits. "Dean, answer me!" He ran and slid to a stop against the rough, stone wall as the tunnel angled sharply down in front of him and the ceiling became too short for him to stand. "Dammit." Sam dropped to his knees, shining his light and saw the clear scuff marks of the snake's passage. Swallowing a lump in his throat and the fear of being crushed, Sam crawled into the tunnel. It felt like hours, though he knew it was only minutes until it opened up and he came out in a larger tunnel, the ceiling a meter above his head. He shined the flashlight and stared in surprise. He'd stumbled into an ancient catacomb. The walls were a patchwork of carved niches and in each niche as Sam passed were the bones of some poor soul. A fine cloud of dust still hung in the air from the serpent's passing and Sam coughed and sneezed, trying to clear it from his nose and mouth as his eyes watered.

"Dean!" Sam called again in a voice rough with dust. He took another step and flinched back as a ghost appeared in front of him. It was a formless and indistinct ghost, a vaguely man shaped mist and Sam backed up a step, raising the shotgun when he felt a cold hand on his back and was pushed forward into the ghost. Shapeless arms took Sam's shoulders and spun him, slamming him into a wall of crypts with a grunt. "Crap." Sam gasped as he was grabbed again and thrown further into the catacomb, shotgun forgotten in his hand for the moment.

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Dean fought for each breath as the Dobhar-Chu's coils tightened around him. In a distant way he knew the only thing keeping his ribs from being crushed was his arm trapped against his chest. He gasped as the serpent dragged him through utter blackness, feeling his legs bump and slide along the uneven stone floor. He nearly went out altogether when his head was cracked roughly against the roof of a tunnel. His only driving thought was to get back to Sam. The last thing he had seen was his brother thrown violently away by the things tail. He thought maybe he had heard Sam's voice but he wasn't sure.

He fought to stay conscious as he was pulled and spun through the pitch black, the sensation and blindness together making him want to throw up. Dean struggled to pull his left arm across his body and the length of snake trapping him. He needed to reach his Skein. It was so close, his fingers brushing the wrapped leather of the hilt. He twisted and pushed with his right arm, trying to give himself just another inch of room, still fighting to take a deep breath and finally wrapped his hand around the hilt. He pulled the Bronze blade free and stabbed it into the snake's belly in front of him.

The Dobhar-Chu screamed. Dean would have screamed if he'd had the breath but the coil around him tightened, cutting off what meager air he'd had. He pulled the blade free, raising his arm for another strike when the world suddenly dropped beneath him. The serpent loosened its grip and Dean gasped in a much needed breath. He fell and tumbled and his confused mind tried to make sense of the faint blue light that spotted his vision and then he struck water. It was freezing and he sank with the coils of the serpent thrashing around him. As suddenly as it had released him, it was gone into the inky water.

He fought the need to gasp in more air, tasting the cold water already in his mouth. Dean kicked and aimed for the minute sparkle of light above him, or what he hoped was above him. He swam in desperation, feeling his lungs burn with the need to breathe and broke the surface a second before his willpower gave out. He heaved in great lungful's of air, the sound echoing in the cave and looked in surprise. The snake had dropped him in an underground lake. Directly above was a hole and presumably where they had fallen through. Surrounding it was some sort of phosphorescent algae. It gave off a gentle blue glow that barely lit the cave. Dean turned, raising the Skein he had somehow managed to keep hold of as something splashed in the water on the other side of the lake. He saw a darkly gleaming coil break the surface and then disappear.

"Great." He searched the walls for another way out and spotted a ledge off to his right. It was a foot or so above the water and he swam quickly for it. The water was sapping the feeling from his arms and legs, leeching his warmth out of him as he reached it and put numb hands onto cold stone and pulled himself out. Dean rolled onto the rock, his whole body shivering and wrapped himself into a ball to try and conserve his body heat. He jerked his up toward the hole when the distinct report of a shotgun echoed down to him.

"Sam!" Dean called up to the black hole above and listened to the silence.

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Sam rolled shakily to his knees, swallowing a cry as he tried to raise his left arm and it refused to move. His shoulder had been knocked out of joint during his rough impact with the floor. He fell onto his back as one of the two formless spirits reached for him, right hand scrabbling through the dust and he felt the comforting weight of his shotgun. He closed his fingers around the stock and swung it up, firing. The scatter of rock salt took both ghosts and dissipated them. Sam let his head fall back with a thump.

"Sam!"

He heard his brother's voice call his name. It was close and echoed hollowly. Sam cradled his left arm against his chest and got to his knees then his feet, using the niches in the catacomb wall to pull himself up. He had to spend a precious minute just breathing to not pass out as the pain in his shoulder stabbed up into his head. Sam saw his flashlight, still lit, at his feet and bent carefully to pick it up before following toward where he thought he'd heard Dean's voice. He kept one hand on the rough wall to keep his balance and picked up his pace.

"Dean!" Sam called and couldn't understand where Dean's voice had come from. The tunnel ahead of him stretched far into the distance, straight and unending as far as his light could show. The burning in his shoulder was now competing with the tightness of what he was sure were bruised ribs as he moved. He had to hunch over to get a decent breath and as he did, his light caught something odd in the floor. He angled the light down and saw a wide opening in the floor. "Dean?" Sam called again and was rewarded when his brothers' voice filtered up to him through it. "Dean!" Sam lowered himself carefully to his knees and looked over the edge. He was surprised to find phosphorescent algae giving off a gentle glow. He turned off the flashlight and tucked it into his pocket.

"Sam!" Dean shouted and Sam leaned further out and down until he could see his brother about thirty feet below on a ledge beside an underground lake.

"Dean! You alright?" Sam called and frowned. Even from there he could see his brother was sopping wet and shivering.

"I'm peachy." Dean yelled, heavy with sarcasm. "Snake got a little pissed when I stabbed him." Dean grinned and waved his blade before putting it back in its sheath at his side.

Sam smirked. "Don't suppose you got the heart?"

"Sorry. I was just trying to not end up lunch." Dean waved toward the far side of the little lake. "It went under over there somewhere. Gotta be another way out of here."

"Ok just…just stay put." Sam eased himself down until he was lying flat so he could lean over further. It was hell on his chest and bruised ribs but it gave him a better view of the cave walls below. There were several shadows that could be openings. "I'm gonna go have a look, see if I can find…another way down."

Dean frowned, hearing the breaks in his brother's speech. "Sammy? You okay?" His radar for a hurt Sam had never yet failed him and he was sure there was something wrong but Sam told him different.

"I'm fine." Sam smiled, though he wasn't sure Dean could see it from down there. "Just got banged around a little by…by the natives." He tried for humor and fought to keep his breathing even. He didn't want the sound of his wheezing to carry down to Dean.

Dean watched the dim figure of his brother. He could tell he was moving stiffly from something. "Sammy?" He wanted the truth and then lurched to his feet as Sam gave a short cry and was pulled from his sight. "SAM!" He vibrated with the need to be up there, to find a way. He could hear the sound of a fight; hear his brother's grunts, a curse. He jumped when Sam's shotgun went off and watched in horror as his little brother reappeared, tumbling boneless through the air to splash into the dark waters. "Sam!" Dean paced along his ledge, waiting for Sam to surface. Precious seconds went by and still there was no sign of him.

"Son of a bitch." Dean kicked off his shoes, dropped his sodden jacket on the stone and dove back into the frigid waters. There was no light to see by beneath the water and he trusted his instinct for where he'd seen Sam go under, kicking strongly; arms stretched out in front of him. His fingers grazed something that felt like Sam's jacket and Dean clasped frantically for it, rewarded when he got a fistful of the material. He pulled and a moment later had his brother's body in his arms. Dean kicked for the surface, silently pleading with whatever might be listening to let him be ok. His head broke the surface and then Sam's and he tipped him back onto his shoulder as he stroked for the ledge. "Sammy?" Dean gasped. "Come on, Sam." There was no response.

Dean pushed and shoved, using every ounce of energy he had left to get his brother up onto the ledge and then pull himself up after. Sam was cold, turning blue and gave no sign of life. "Dammit, Sam. No!" Dean pulled him up so he was sitting, maneuvering Sam's back in against his chest. He put both fists high on his brothers' stomach and pressed in and up. On the third try, water came gushing from Sam's nose and mouth and by the fourth he was coughing hard enough to double him over. "That's it, Sammy. Breathe. Just breathe." Dean kept a firm grip on him, not letting him slide to the ground. He braced Sam's forehead with a hand when the coughing finally stopped and eased his head back to his shoulder. He felt something hard shoving into his chest and reached between them, surprised when he came out with his own shotgun. Sam had tucked it into the back of his belt. Dean set it aside with a grateful smile and put his arm around his brother again. "Sam?"

"Dean." Sam coughed and then gasped. The pain in his chest was at a new level of misery, his bruised ribs screaming at him and his shoulder was threating to make him pass out. He rolled his head and saw his left arm bent awkwardly beside him. "Dean…arm."

"Huh?" Dean looked, confused. He ran a hand over Sam's right arm and felt nothing out of place. When he switched hands and touched his left shoulder, Sam cried out involuntarily. Dean groaned in sympathy. He could feel, as he pressed gentle fingers around the joint that it was out of socket. "Ok, Sammy. Ok. I've got you." He carefully pulled Sam's left arm free and set it in front of him. "Anywhere else? Don't lie to me."

Sam nodded weakly. "Ribs. Bruised." He chuckled and ended in a coughing fit, his brother's arms the only things keeping him upright. "Ghosts…used me…for batting practice." He realized then how cold he was, how cold the water had been as his body started to shiver, trying to generate warmth.

"Ok. We gotta get out of here." Dean said fiercely. Him suffering hypothermia was one thing, he didn't have a problem with that but Sam needed to be warm and soon. He felt Sam reach his right arm in front of him and a second later he came up with his Maglite. "Nice, Sammy." Dean smiled and took the light, flicking it on. He shined it around the cave. It was more of a bubble really. He was sure if Sam wasn't so busy shaking and trying to swallow the pain he was in, he could have told Dean exactly how it was formed. He smirked at the thought and then frowned. The beam was strong enough to reach the opposite wall and no matter where he looked, the only way he could see into or out of the cave was the one he and Sam had come through. "Not good."

"The Do…Dobhar-Chu." Sam stuttered, his teeth chattering. "Where did it go?"

Dean shrugged and turned the light off to conserve the batteries. "I don't know. Into the water."

Sam nodded. "It's not still h…here then." He let his head drop back to Dean's shoulder, closing his eyes wearily. "Be dead…if it were. S'another way out. Under water."

"Oh hell no." Dean shook his head. "No way are we swimming for it." He looked back up to the hole in the roof, trying to think of some way to get them up there.

"Can't. Too high." Sam said what he knew his brother had to already be thinking. "No help coming, Dean. Only one who knew…where we are is dead."

"Dammit." Dean dropped his head into Sam's hair for a second and nodded. "This sucks. Ok." The decision made he leaned back and moved out from behind Sam, settling him carefully against the wall behind them. "I'm gonna go have a look. Stay put." Sam nodded.

Dean flicked the torch back on and drew his Skein, holding it firmly in his right hand. He took a deep breath and dove back into the lake, resisting the urge to gasp in a breath as the cold water shocked his system again. He swam strongly for the other side of the cave to where he'd last seen the creature surface. Dean's hands touched the stone a second before he realized he was there and he backed up, shining the light along the rock wall. Ten feet down from the surface a large, round opening gaped in the wall. He let himself drift slowly down until he hung in front of it, knife at the ready but the Dobhar-Chu was long gone. Dean frowned, feeling a gentle push of water against his body. He kicked hard for the surface, bursting up and taking a grateful gasp of air.

"Found it, Sam." He called and saw his brother give him a thumbs up. Dean went to the ledge and pulled himself up, taking a moment to gather his energy; what little he still had and then he stood.

"Dean? What's wrong?" Sam asked. He could see a serious frown on his brother's face and watched as Dean played the light up along the wall, stopping ten feet above their heads.

"Shit." Dean dropped the light, flicking it off and looked down at Sam. "Good news is that tunnel probably goes out to the lake." He sighed and knelt beside Sam, trying to decide how much Sam had left in him. "Bad news is the tide's coming in. Our ledge is gonna be underwater soon."

"S-so we g-go now or not at all." Sam said and nodded, accepting.

Dean wanted to say no, that they'd stay, warm up, dry off, find another way out. Sam was in no condition for a swim or to hold his breath with bruised ribs for who knew how long. Instead he nodded and smiled. "Yep. Shouldn't be too far." He stood and picked up his sodden jacket, shrugging back into it and snorted a laugh when Sam raised his brows at him. "Dude, what? I love this jacket. I'm not leavin' it."

Sam shook his head and smirked. "Wasn't gonna say anything but Dean." He pointed to his left shoulder. "Gotta fix this first. C-can't swim…like this."

"I know." Dean knelt beside him and smiled. "You ready?" Sam nodded and took a deep breath to steel himself. Dean was as gentle as he could be moving his arm, straightening it and he grimaced as he braced one hand on the front of Sam's shoulder and his other behind. Sam nodded again and Dean gave a sharp push. He felt the joint pop back in its socket as Sam gave a strangle cry and lurched forward.

"Whoa, whoa." Dean grabbed hold of him and pulled him back, propping him up against the wall. "No passing out, Sam." Dean ordered and smiled proudly when his little brother blinked blearily up at him. "That's my boy."

Sam fought the urge to simply close his eyes and go to sleep. He wanted nothing so much as to blissfully pass out and escape the pain but the look in Dean's eyes made him stay awake and made him reach his right arm up to stand. He was sure Dean didn't even know Sam could read the concern there so easily. His big brother was scared down to his toes that Sam wasn't going to make it out the other side and as determined as he was scared that Sam would because that's what Dean did. He took care of Sam.

"Let's go." Sam said and worked to make his voice sound less shaky.

Dean pulled him up, steadied him when he would have gone back down and said a silent prayer that something somewhere would look out for them and help him get his brother out of this alive. The water was now lapping at their feet as they stood on the side of the ledge. It had risen nearly a foot. He was trying to decide how to get Sam back in the water when his brother gave a weak shrug and let himself drop back in.

"Nice." He chuckled when Sam's head bobbed into view. Dean bent and grabbed up his shotgun, tucking it into the back of his belt as Sam had done, sheathed his Skein and flicked the flashlight back on before he jumped in beside his brother. "Ok, you're gonna swim in front." Dean told him. He wasn't fond of the idea of Sam running into the serpent first but that thought didn't scare him half so much as being underwater, looking back and finding Sam had simply drifted away never to be found. He pushed the flashlight into Sam's good hand.

"Ok." Sam let Dean lead the way to where his brother knew the opening was.

"Swim hard, Sam." Dean told him. "We don't know how long the tunnel is or where the damn snake is so no screwing around."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I have l-longer legs, shorty." He smirked at Dean. "You have t-to keep up."

Dean gave a halfhearted splash at him and clenched his jaw as his own teeth started to chatter along with Sam's. "Time to go." Sam nodded and together they dove.

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_To Be Continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

_**CHAPTER 7** _

Sam swam hard, pulling powerful strokes despite the burning pain from his shoulder and bruised ribs. Every movement made him want to gasp in pain and he almost welcomed the aching cold water that started to sap feeling from his limbs. The flashlight; and he silently thanked his brother for investing in waterproof mag-lights, cut a clear beam through the absolute darkness. He ducked his head, looking beneath and behind him and felt Dean's hand tap his foot; a mute order to get a move on. Sam turned his gaze ahead once more, lungs burning with the need for air and took some hope as the tunnel they swam through suddenly angled sharply up. Sam pushed hard against the current, refusing to give in as his body was dangerously close to letting go and almost didn't realize light was filtering down from above. The sparkle of sunlight broke through the fog in his head and he pushed himself, frantic to reach the surface as black spots began to dance in his vision. He almost sucked in a mouthful of water in surprise when Dean's arm suddenly wrapped around his chest.

Dean saw the flickering light above his brother. He was fighting to hold what little breath he had left and knew it had to be harder for Sam, injured as he was. The closer they came to the surface, the slower and more sluggish Sam's movements became. Dean knew he was going to lose the battle and found a reserve of energy, kicking himself forward he drew even with Sam and snaked an arm around his chest, pulling him in and drove them both upward. They broke the surface at the same time and Dean held Sam's face above water while they both gasped in grateful gulps of cold air.

"Sammy?" Dean asked and got a slow nod in response. He didn't loosen his grip. He could feel Sam trembling against him and figured he had little to nothing left at that point. Dean looked around and saw they were in a small grotto formed by a u-shaped formation of rocks. The walls were too sheer for them to climb and he turned around, pulling Sam with him as he headed them out to the open water beyond. The waves were thankfully mild and not pushing too hard as he swum out between the walls to the lake. Sam did his best to help, kicking his legs weakly and Dean felt a surge of pride for the kid; beat to hell and still fighting.

Once outside the grotto, Dean changed direction and made his tired body keep moving, keep pulling toward the tree lined beach so close. "Almost there, Sammy." In response, Sam started to kick harder and pull with his good arm, giving them an extra burst of speed. Dean struggled up and onto the shore, dragging Sam with him as the cold water took the last of his strength and he collapsed into the rocky sand beside his brother. "No more…swimming…for a while."

Sam nodded in complete agreement, speech beyond him as he shook hard with the beginnings of hypothermia. He felt similar tremors in Dean where his arm laid against his shoulder and closed his eyes, trying to find a reserve of energy. They needed to get warm. He tried rolling to his side and ended on a hiss, curved around his bruised ribs; the shaking of his body was not helping the pain level.

"Stay still, Sam." Dean told him and made himself sit up. "I g-gotta get us warm…somehow." He wasn't entirely sure where they were in relation to the ruins and their car. All he could see as he looked up was lake on one side and steep, thickly forested hill on the other. "Crap." No signs of civilization at all. He dug his cellphone out of his back pocket knowing it would be useless and it was. He tossed the waterlogged phone away with a disgusted sigh. "Ok. Ok." Dean stood slowly, using a nearby tree to pull himself up. "Stay put." He told Sam and trudged into the screen of trees, looking for dry wood to start a fire. Twenty freezing minutes later he returned to find Sam curled up in a fetal position and shaking fit to knock his teeth loose.

He dropped the wood on the rocky sand and kicked a hollow with the toe of his shoe before settling to his knees. He spent precious minutes building the base for their fire and mounded the dried leaves he'd found beneath the wood before feeling through his pockets for his zippo. He brought it up to his face with shaking hands and held it tightly.

"Come on, baby. Light for daddy." Dean begged the little gold rectangle and flipped it open, spinning the wheel. As he'd feared, nothing happened. He blew hard on the wheel and wick several times and gave it another spin. On the fifth try it sparked and spurred him with hope. He spun the wheel several more times and was rewarded with a tiny flickering flame, trying hard to hold on to the water damp wick. He slowly lowered it to the tinder and held his breath until it caught.

He helped the first of the wood catch and then crawled over to his brother. "Sam? Crap." Sam's shivering had almost stopped while he was gone and that was not good. Fear wormed its way into him as he rolled Sam to his back and pulled him close to the still burgeoning fire. "C'mon, Sammy. You gotta w-wake up." Dean's own body was still trembling hard and he realized leaving Sam to lie alone exposed on the beach had been a mistake. Once he'd stopped moving there had been nothing to stave off the cold. He pulled him to the far side of the fire between it and the trees and started peeling Sam's jacket and shirts off him.

"Sorry, kid. This is gonna be uncomfortable for us both." Dean shook his head, resigning himself to getting Sam warm again, even at the expense of cuddling. "You so owe me for this." Dean groaned as he pulled off his own clothes, stripping down to his shorts and doing the same to Sam. The bandage on his left arm had been lost in the water somewhere but the stitches and wound beneath looked thankfully untouched. He looked out to the water as he lay down next to his brother and pulled his back in against his chest. "Hope no one over there's got binoculars." He groused; looking at the distant lights on the other side of the lake as dusk fell. He wrapped his arms around Sam and rubbed his arms, trying to encourage the blood to flow. Dean could feel the first edges of warmth from the fire on his arms and legs and dropped a hand to Sam's chest, feeling the skin there much warmer.

"Come on, Sammy. Wake up before this chick flick gets even more embarrassing." Dean chuckled. Sam groaned against him and Dean put a hand on his forehead. "Sammy?" Sam started to shiver then and Dean felt relief sweep through him. His body was starting to warm itself. "That's my boy." Dean rubbed vigorously along his arms and smiled when Sam's dark head bumped up into his chin.

"Dean?" Sam asked weakly, confused.

"Right here, buddy." Dean said reassuringly and Sam stopped struggling, settling in quietly and drifting off again as his body warmed. A half hour later, when Sam's shivering and his own had finally drifted off, Dean pulled himself up and went about spreading their clothes next to the fire, as close as he dared. They were not going to troop back to the car in their skivvies, he thought and chuckled at the sight they'd make. He looked over at Sam across the fire and frowned. He went back over, taking a moment to hop up and down and generate some body heat and then knelt beside Sam, turning him slightly so he could see his chest. A wide, long bruise crossed his chest on a diagonal from his right shoulder to his left hip and made Dean wince just looking at it.

"And you still swam out." Dean said softly, brushing a hand through Sam's now dry hair with a little smile and wished their Dad had been around to see. He sighed and wondered for the hundredth time what their Dad was doing that he wouldn't answer his sons.

"Mmmf." Sam moaned and slowly blinked his eyes open. "Dean? We're out?"

Dean snorted. "Nothin' gets by you huh, college boy?" Dean held a hand on his shoulder when Sam would have tried to get up. "Just stay down for now. Get warm while our clothes dry. We're gonna have to hike out of here."

Sam nodded and let his head drop to pillow on his arm and then he chuckled. "You're naked."

Dean pushed at his shoulder. "Am not and you're not exactly dressed to impress either, sweetheart."

Sam looked down at himself, eyes widening and then groaned. "Well this is…awkward. I want my clothes."

"Still wet." Dean said and settled behind Sam as unobtrusively as possible, lending his body heat to his back. "I want a damn burger." He licked his lips. "And a beer dammit."

Sam gave a short laugh, holding an arm across his chest in an effort to brace his bruised ribs. "We still have the Skeins?" He asked then, concerned suddenly for their safety since the Dhobar-Chu had come out the same way they did. He smiled and nodded when Dean reached an arm over to show him the blade he held.

"Not gonna catch us off guard this time." Dean said firmly. He kept his eyes on the sloping forest behind them, trusting Sam to watch the water while their clothes dried.

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Navigating the steep, forested slope in the dark was a pain in the ass; Dean thought to himself and stumbled. He caught himself on a tree and felt Sam's hand press into his back. "I'm good." He looked back and saw Sam give him a weak smile. He was walking cradling his chest, the steep climb not doing him any favors. "We're almost to the top I think." Dean told him and kept climbing. He pushed out through a screening of bushes and stopped to survey the scene before them.

"Whoa." Dean said and reached an arm back for Sam, pulling him up beside him. "Check it out."

They stood at the top of the Bluff Point ruins; ancient stonework's and crumble down buildings spread out before them in a maze of narrow alleys and wide, stepped stone workings.

"Parking lot's that way." Sam pointed off to their left and Dean nodded.

"We'll go around from up here." Dean said, looking down into the shadowed alleys. "Have a better chance of seeing that friggin anaconda coming for us." He gave Sam a gentle push ahead of him where he could keep an eye on his swaying brother, hand hovering behind his shoulder just in case. They made good time around the top of the ruins, sometimes heading back into the tree line when the stone ledge narrowed too much to be safe. The night sky was clear and the moon gave them more than enough light to see by.

They reached the edge of the parking area a long hour later and both men sighed, relieved to be so close to the car and then a warm bed. They stumbled into the lot and across, pushing each other upright as if they were drunk rather than simply exhausted and chuckling at each other.

"Didn't lose the keys in the lake did you?" Sam asked with a smirk.

Dean rolled his eyes and produced the keys, twirling them in front of his little brother's face. "Give me some credit." He reached the car and ran a hand along the hood. "As if I'd lose your keys, baby."

"Good grief." Sam groaned and went around to the passenger side, determined to sit and not move for a while. He was so tired, so close to out on his feet, he didn't at first register the dark, glistening form as it eased from under the belly of the Impala until it nudged his foot. Sam froze with his hand on the roof. "Dean." He whispered.

"What?" Dean slid the keys into the lock and looked up, frowning. Sam was standing stone still, eyes on the ground. "Sam?"

"It's under the car." Sam whispered again and took a step back as the color drained out of his big brothers' face. He fumbled a hand behind his back, fingers grasping the hilt of the bronze knife and saw Dean from the corner of his eye backing away and bending to get a better look.

"Get the HELL out from under my car you bitch!" Dean shouted, incensed. The Dobhar-Chu swept it's long tail out and took Sam's legs out from under him. "Sam!" Dean leapt onto the hood of the car as the snake's head shot from under the driver's door. He drew his bronze knife and dropped beside his brother, pulling him up and shoved him to the side as the creature's tail lashed out at them like a whip. It whistled between them and the snake's head rose over the Impala, rocking the entire body of the car.

"You got a plan?" Sam said, breathless. His left arm hung useless, popped out of joint once more with his impact with the ground.

"I'm workin' on it." Dean growled, watching the giant head as it wove above them. He groaned as the horn slid out of the center of its head, glinting dangerously in the moonlight. He narrowed his eyes and tensed, waiting. The Dobhar-Chu struck, head whistling forward intent on impaling Dean. He spun at the last second and wrapped his left arm around the neck behind the snake's head and brought his right hand around. He drove the bronze blade into its skull and used his weight to push the head to the ground. "Sam!" He gasped and straddled the thrashing serpent, trying not to hear the crunching sound as its tail lashed into the Impala. "Find the damn heart!"

"This is a plan?" Sam gasped and darted in toward the shifting coils. Its body shoved him away and he jumped back, wrapping his good arm around the body, hand running along the soft underbelly through its dark hair. "Don't let go yet!" He said, seeing Dean riding behind the head like it was a bucking horse.

"Doing…my best…hurry UP!" Dean shouted and put all his weight onto the Skein and its head.

Sam shouted when he felt the fast, rhythmic thump of the creature's heart beneath his hand. "I found it!"

"Stop talkin' about it and…stab it already!" Dean turned his head to see Sam draw his own knife, glistening gold in the night and watched as he stabbed down into the snake. The Dobhar-Chu convulsed beneath him and screamed. Dean couldn't hold it anymore and was thrown through the air, landing with a grunt several yards away in the soft grass. He rose up to his elbows and saw Sam rolling to a stop through the parking lot. Between them, the Dobhar-Chu coiled in upon itself, gave one last massive spasm and sank to the ground; still.

"Holy crap." Dean rolled to his feet, rubbing his sore back and went cautiously toward the creature. His and Sam's blades stood out like exclamations in the dark, furred hide. He went to its head, braced a foot behind the horn and grasped the hilt of his Skein. He gave a pull and, with a little effort, slid the blade free. Green ichor colored the blade. "Yech." He wiped it off in the Dobhar-Chu's fur and went to check on his brother.

Sam had managed to roll to his back and watched Dean retrieve his blade but moving any further than that just seemed beyond him.

"Sammy? You ok?" Dean knelt beside him and Sam nodded.

"Just…shoulder's out again." Sam admitted grudgingly and Dean sighed.

"Ok." Dean went to his other side and used his right arm to pull him to his feet. "What is it with you and that left shoulder?" He chuckled, trying to lighten some of the pain he saw on Sam's face. It did always seem to be his left shoulder Dean was forever popping back in.

"Just lucky." Sam groaned and then groaned again when he got a good look at the Impala. "Oh man." He felt Dean's grip on his arm tighten. "It's just the windshield. We can fix that."

Dean nodded and delivered a parting kick to the serpent's corpse as they passed it. He opened the passenger door and settled Sam in the seat. "Gonna salt and burn that bitch before we go." Dean ground out between his teeth, tearing his eyes from the spider web of cracks across his baby's windshield. Sam nodded wearily as he closed the door and went to the trunk.

Minutes later he stood over the cheerfully burning corpse of the Dobhar-Chu and wished he could kill it again. "No one messes with my baby." He said softly and turned his back on the creature, pushing Sam's Skein into his belt as he went around to the driver's side and slid behind the wheel. "How you doin', Sammy?"

"Peachy." Sam replied with a pained smile. "Burger. Beer. Bed. Remember?"

Dean chuckled and brushed a hand over the inside of the windshield before he rumbled the engine to life. He backed away from the still smoldering corpse and left the ruins behind with a satisfied smile.

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"Sir?" Lana knocked on the private apartment door of her boss, Mr. Fielding; the current owner of the Esperanza Mansion hotel. "Mr. Fielding?"

The door opened and a young man in his twenties, dark hair pulled back in a severe ponytail and tailored suit frowned down at her. "You are aware of the hour, Lana?"

"Y-yes, sir but." She wrung her hands. "Sir you asked to be notified if the…if your…pet failed to return and well…it hasn't come back."

Mr. Fielding's eyes darkened. "Are you sure?"

"Sir, it's almost dawn and it always comes back before dawn. It never leaves _her_ alone for long." Lana stuttered, watching his eyes darken.

"Tell Jasper I want him to go to the ruins and find out what's happened." Mr. Fielding dismissed her with a short wave and shut the door in her face.

Lana let out a relieved sigh. She wondered why she didn't just walk away and leave the mansion as badly as he treated her and then she sighed, remembering. "Just had to sell your soul, Lana. You idiot." She rubbed a hand over her face and went to make his call.

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_To Be Continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

_**CHAPTER 8** _

"Stop squirming." Dean told Sam, waiting for him to settle as he wrapped a long bandage around his chest. "It's broken."

"No kidding." Sam gasped and tried to get his left arm up higher so Dean could work. He ended up resting it on his brother's shoulder, the abused joint refusing to do much more. Some not so gentle pressure from Dean had pointed out the one broken rib among all the bruises.

"Almost done." Dean told him and wrapped as quickly as he dared, pulling the bandage tighter. They'd stopped at a drive through on their way back to the motel for food. Dean had handed the bag to Sam and watched his brother went three shades of pale as he turned to take it. He'd shoved him back in the seat then and manhandled him in front of the drive through window, finding the broken rib he'd missed earlier.

"We should…get out of town." Sam said, feeling a sweat break out across his forehead as Dean tugged the bandage tighter. "Someone's…gonna notice the sheriff's…missing soon."

"I know." Dean tied off the end of the bandage and sat back, taking a good look at him. "Dude, you need to rest."

"I can rest…in the car." The bandage was making it hard for Sam to get a full breath but it was easing the pain some.

Dean frowned, watching the pain cross his face but nodded. "Ok. We'll get out of New York and then find somewhere to hole up for a couple days." He slapped Sam's knee and stood. "You just relax, princess. I'll pack up."

Sam tripped him as he stepped away; giving him a satisfied smirk when Dean growled at him and let himself lay back against the pillows piled behind him with a tired sigh. It was hours until dawn still and he wanted so much to close his eyes and sleep. In spite of his best efforts as he watched Dean move quickly through the room, packing their things, Sam's eyes drooped and then closed.

Dean snorted when he saw his little brother's head loll to the side. He let him nap and quickly packed up their things, lugging the bags down to the car. He made a quick stop in the office and checked out, not bothering to chat with the manager and leave his brother alone. Dean jogged past the pool, flipping it the finger as he headed back up the stairs. Sam was just where he'd left him and Dean stuck a finger in his ear.

"Wake up, Rapunzel." Dean said as Sam slapped his hand away, jerking awake.

"It's Sleeping beauty, idiot." Sam told him and swung his legs off the bed.

Dean grinned. "So not helping your case. Come on, we're good to go." He pulled Sam to his feet and steadied him. "Next motel, no haunted fish."

Sam chuckled. "Seconded." He followed Dean outside and rolled his eyes as Dean slowed his pace down the stairs for his benefit. Dean left him to open his own door with a smirk. Sam grabbed the handle and then froze as he felt a blade slide against his neck and a body step in behind him. "Dean." Sam said softly and watched his brother look up and jerk in shock.

"Don't be stupid, mate." The man at Sam's back said conversationally in a strong Australian accent. "I promise ya I can open yer brother's throat before you get anywhere near me. In the car boys. You first." He pointed at Dean.

"What the hell's going on?" Dean growled, trying to decide if he could get to his gun and shoot before Sam died. As if understanding the look on Dean's face, the man twitched the blade at Sam's throat, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Get in the car." He ordered again.

Sam gave Dean a slight nod. "I'm ok, Dean."

"That's a good lad." The man said as Dean got behind the wheel. "Now in you go, son and don't try anythin'. Hate to have to leave you here." He pressed the knife in deeper so Sam understood if he left him it would be as a corpse. Sam opened the door, grunting as the man shoved him against the frame of the car as he opened the back door and stepped around, knife never leaving his neck. Sam folded into the seat, wincing at the pressure across chest from the broken rib and winced in pain when the man's hand closed like a vise on his left shoulder, pulling him back. The door closed and the knife returned to his throat.

"You hurt him again and I promise no one's ever gonna find what's left of you." Dean ground out, meeting the man's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Now, now. No reason we can't stay friendly like." The man smiled at Dean, never loosening his grip on Sam's shoulder or moving the knife. "Drive."

"Where?" Dean turned on the engine, meeting Sam's wide eyes.

"Esperanza Mansion. Follow the signs." He settled in against the back of the bench seat behind Sam and gave his shoulder another twist, making him groan. "This shoulder's a bit of a problem, mate. Oughta be more careful."

"Son of a bitch." Dean muttered and took a deep breath to calm himself at the barest shake of Sam's head telling him not to start something yet. He pulled out into the street, empty at that late hour and kept one eye on the man in the back seat, waiting for an opportunity but he gave him none.

"You boys have been busy tonight." The man said with a smile. "Got my boss mad as a cut snake an' the day hasn't even started yet."

"And who's your boss?" Sam asked and the man snickered.

"A right pommy bastard but 'e pays well." He thumped Sam's shoulder, smirking at the hiss of pain. "Now you lot, you went and killed his little…pet. He wants a word with ya." He shook his head and tsked. "Figure I'll be diggin' two holes before dawn."

"One for you and one for your boss." Dean said and gave him a smile in the mirror that, had he been a smart man, would have made his blood run cold.

"The Dhobar-Chu was his pet?" Sam asked, incredulous.

"Right, enough talk. Just drive, mate and maybe we all get there in one piece." He tugged Sam's head back at an awkward angle so Dean could clearly see the blade and smiled. Dean focused his eyes on the road and let the anger calm him. Sooner or later the guy would make a mistake and he'd be ready.

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The Esperanza Mansion was impressive even in the moonlight as they drove up to it, their hijacker directing them to a narrow road that ran behind the sprawling house. It was fronted with Greek columns and looked as though it belonged on the Italian coast somewhere rather than a little lake in upstate New York.

"Park over there." The man told Dean and nodded toward a rear entrance. Dean pulled into a space and cut off the engine. "Now you just sit still a sec." He gave Sam's shoulder another squeeze. "Out if ya please." Sam growled, frustrated but opened his door as the man opened the one behind him and got out, the knife leaving his throat for only a moment. "Ah, ah, ah." The man said and took hold of his bad shoulder again as Sam made to turn, raising his right arm. The knife pressed into him again and he stilled. "No heroics, mate. Your turn, get out." He told Dean and kicked the doors shut as Dean stood and glared at him. "Move." He nodded for Dean to lead the way and followed behind with a firm grip on Sam, knife pricking painfully as they walked.

Sam watched the stiff shoulders of his big brother as they entered the mansion and walked down a long hall. Their captor spurred them to the right and down a flight of stairs before finally bringing them into what looked like a comfortable sitting room; three chairs and a long chaise surrounded a low table and the back wall was covered floor to ceiling in hanging curtains. Stretched on the chaise was a young, dark haired man, well dressed and he rose as they entered.

"Shut the door, Jasper." He said and looked to Dean and Sam. "I'm Mr. Fielding. I own Esperanza Mansion." He stuck out a hand that Dean ignored. Mr. Fielding raised a brow to Jasper who dug his fingers into Sam's shoulders, driving him to the floor in pain. Dean made a move to intervene but Jasper wiggled the knife still at Sam's throat and he stopped. "I expect civility from my guests, Mr. Winchester." Mr. Fielding said calmly with a faint British accent, waiting for Dean to turn to him and held his hand out again.

Dean growled and grudgingly took it, hearing Sam hiss in pain behind him. "You don't treat your guests very well." Dean said and rubbed his hand absently on his pants when it was released, feeling as though something vile had clung to it.

"Do please, sit." Mr. Fielding gestured to one of the chairs and Dean slowly sat. A raised hand stopped Sam from following. "Oh I think we'll leave your brother in Jasper's tender care for now, hmm? We wouldn't want any…misunderstandings while we speak. Your reputation precedes you of course and I shall take no chances."

"What the hell are you?" Dean asked, patience reaching its limit. He had sat so he could see Sam and his little brother still knelt on the floor, head hung low and his right hand gripping his left shoulder below Jasper's hand. The cut on his throat seemed to have clotted as no fresh blood was flowing to join the red stain down the front of his shirt. "What do you want?"

"An explanation if you please." Mr. Fielding sat across from Dean and rang a small silver bell, setting it aside on the table. "You killed one of my pets and I should like to know how."

"One of?" Dean asked, surprised as a worry niggled at him. "There's more?"

Mr. Fielding smiled and reached behind him, taking hold of a long pull cord. He gave it a tug and the curtains on the back wall slid apart to reveal a low lit cave interior. At the back of the cave, curled around a nest of small eggs was a second Dobhar-Chu. "You killed her mate but thankfully they had already produced offspring so I'm not as angry as I would otherwise be inclined to be."

The door opened beyond Sam while both men stared at the creature through the thick pane of glass and a tall, young woman walked nervously in. "Yes, Mr. Fielding?"

"Coffee please, Lana." He told the woman and scowled at her as she stopped to take in the room and Sam with the knife at his throat. "Now if you please." Fielding said with less good humor and she bobbed a quick curtsy and left the room. He rang another bell and two men entered from a side door. "Search them please."

Dean growled as he was roughly pulled to his feet and forced himself not to fight as they divested him and Sam of their weapons. A tidy pile of three handguns, several knives and Dean's Skein sat on the low table between them when they were finished.

"Sit." Fielding told Dean and waited until he had. He leaned across and picked through the weapons on the table, taking up the Bronze knife and tilting it so it glinted in the light. "Ah. Lucky guess or actual research on your part?"

"Go to hell." Dean growled and Fielding laughed.

"Oh no doubt, my boy. No doubt at all." He smiled and set the knife aside. "A Warlock like myself has no other options I fear after death." He smiled as their eyes widened in surprise and chuckled. "You've stumbled into my playground you see. I was quite enjoying the little mayhem my pet was getting up to and I did need the souls you know."

"For what?" Sam asked suddenly, lifting his head to look at the man curiously. "There are already plenty of active souls in those ruins."

"Yes, yes but not enough, not for my purposes." He rose as Lana returned with a tray and coffee service. "Ah in my office Lana. I think the brothers Winchester won't be needing a cup after all." He waited until she had left and smiled at them. "No, I won't be telling you what I'm up to. I'm quite fond of James Bond films you know." He laughed as he started away toward the door. "The criminal masterminds are always ruining their best laid plans with some ridiculous monologue. Goodbye boys." He stopped to drop a hand on Jasper's shoulder. "Give them to her. A bit of revenge should suit her I think and she hasn't been fed today."

Jasper waited until the door shut, leaving him alone with them and sighed. "Now if it were me, I'd just kill you two straight but, the boss says you're lunch, you're lunch. Up you go, mate." He tugged at Sam's shoulder until he'd climbed to his feet and nodded at Dean. "Door's over there on your right." He watched Dean stand and not move and smiled. "Die here or die there. Your choice mate."

Dean saw Sam give him a slight shake of his head and turned toward the door. His hands were shaking with rage as he reached for the handle and gave it a turn, opening it. He felt Sam come up behind him and just as he was going to turn and make a grab for the knife, Sam was thrust into him from behind, knocking them both through the door and into the cave beyond. He grunted with Sam's weight falling on top of him. Dean rolled to his back, pushing Sam to the side in time to see Jasper in the door grinning.

"S'what I would'a done, mate." Jasper shrugged. "Good luck. She's a messy eater." He shut the door and Dean saw him walk away through the glass and leave the room, obviously not interested in watching.

"Sam?" Dean reached over and took the arm Sam raised.

"Yeah. Crap." Sam rolled to his knees slowly, hanging on to his now throbbing shoulder, left arm cradled over his broken rib. "I'm ok."

Dean nodded and rose. He went to the door and tried the handle, finding it locked. "Figured." He muttered and gave it a few solid kicks to no effect before turning back to the cave and its' resident. The Dobhar-Chu uncoiled her head from over her eggs, raising it up to see them. "Not good." Dean went and pulled Sam hastily to his feet, backing them to the window. "Any ideas, college boy?"

Sam shook his head. "They got all my weapons. You?" Dean nodded. "Open to suggestions here."

The great serpent began easing away from her eggs toward them, long, forked tongue licking out into the air as if tasting their scent and she hissed.

Dean could see nothing in the cave to use as a weapon, nor anywhere to hide and his eyes settled on the nest. He braced a hand on Sam's back. "The eggs. Get to the eggs. She won't wanna break those."

"You hope." Sam groaned and began easing out into the cave, Dean at his side as the shaggy, black head rose over them menacingly.

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_To Be Continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

_**CHAPTER 9** _

Dean moved away from Sam, trying to give him room and waved his arms at the Dobhar-Chu. "Hey ugly!" He yelled and smiled when her head turned to find him.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam watched his brother drawing the creature toward him and felt fear dance in his gut.

"Get to the damn eggs, Sam!" Dean yelled and dove to the side as the head charged down at him. "Holy crap." He gasped, rolling back to his feet.

Sam stumbled toward the nest, left arm hanging near useless at his side. He glanced back to see Dean throw himself away from the serpent's head again. He grunted in surprise, having forgotten to watch for the tail as it slapped into his knees and spilled him across the floor. He spent a few moments just staring at the rock ceiling and catching his breath against the flash of pain from his broken rib and abused shoulder.

"Sam?" Dean shouted, seeing his brother tossed and lying still but he raised a wavering arm and gave him a thumbs up before rolling slowly to his knees.

"Good..I'm good." Sam struggled to take a deep breath and got back to his feet. The Dobhar-Chu was focused on Dean now and Sam lurched ahead, reaching the nest. He crawled up the low rise of rock to the eggs and ran his hand over them. They were warm to the touch and leathery and about the size of basketballs, all seven of them. He looked out and saw Dean take a coil of the snake's body in the gut. It threw him backward to slide along the stone. "Hey!" Sam shouted and picked up one of the eggs.

The Serpent's head whipped around and she hissed in obvious anger, sliding over the stone to hang above him. Her tongue licked out and rocked Sam's shoulder. He ground his teeth against the pain and pulled the egg in against him protectively. The Dobhar-Chu reared back, understanding her eggs were now in danger.

"Dean?" Sam called and heaved a tight sigh when he saw him crawling to his feet. "You okay?"

"Feel like…a pinball." Dean shook his head to clear the cobwebs and started easing closer to the nest.

"Now what?" Sam asked, watching the red eyes above him as they glared death at him but she didn't move to attack him. "This stand-off won't last forever man."

"I'm workin' on it." Dean held a hand against his stomach and groaned. "Feel like I got kicked by a linebacker. Keep her busy!"

Sam knelt down so he was in the circle of eggs and kept his eyes on the Dobhar-Chu. She seemed completely focused on him, ignoring Dean now her eggs were in danger. He shifted the egg against his chest to get a better grip and she hissed again, darting closer to him and shifting away again.

"Whatever you're gonna do, hurry up." Sam told him. "She's pissed."

Dean nodded and searched the cave, keeping a wary distance from the thrashing tail as it whipped back and forth in agitation. Seeing his brother so close beneath the hissing jaws was trashing his nerves and he jumped at the sound of the door opening behind him. "What the hell?" Dean spun and saw the woman, Lana, standing poised in the open door.

"Hurry. You have to hurry." She whispered, eyes never leaving the snake.

"You're letting us out?" Dean asked, incredulous and she nodded. Dean shrugged and turned. "Sam! Get your ass over here!"

"How?" Sam leaned backward as she darted her head in at him again and held tightly to his egg, his only defense.

"Take the egg with you." Dean threw his arms up to say, it was all he could think of and watched as Sam navigated his way slowly out of the nest. The Dobhar-Chu followed him, her giant head never more than a few feet away from him as she hissed and tried to find a way to reach the egg he still held.

Sam staggered, tripping on the edge of the nest and went down to a knee, almost losing his grip. The serpent darted her head at him and he felt the wind on his face as she nearly took his head. He got painfully back to his feet and began backing away toward his brother and the door. Her scales scraped across the floor as she followed, tail whipping behind her. He felt Dean's hand on his back then and let it guide him to the door.

"Almost there, Sammy." Dean whispered and tugged at Sam's jacket, pulling him backwards. They reached the door and Sam bent.

He knelt slowly and set the egg on the stone in front of him and pushed it so it rolled out into the cave. He felt Dean take hold of his good shoulder and was pulled backward as the door slammed shut. "Let's never do that again." Sam said, sitting on the floor against Dean's legs and sobbed in a breath.

"You ok?" Dean leaned down and tilted Sam's head up to him. He was pale, damp hair stuck to his forehead but he smiled and nodded. "Thanks." Dean said, turning to the woman who'd saved them. "Lana was it?"

She nodded nervously. "Yes. You need to get out of here."

"What about you?" Sam asked, voice hoarse and reached his right arm up to Dean in a silent plea for help. Dean took his arm and pulled him to his feet, steadying him.

"I can't leave." Lana said and shook her head. "I…he owns me." She rubbed a hand over her face. "You know what he is. He…has my soul."

"Your soul?" Dean gaped and shook his head. "Why the hell would you sell your soul to that psycho?" He went to the table and started gathering up their weapons.

"My mother." Lana said softly. "She had cancer. He promised he could cure her."

"Did he?" Sam asked gently and she nodded.

"Didn't matter. A month later she was hit by a drunk driver." Lana laughed humorlessly. "He said it didn't negate the deal. He did his part."

"I'm sorry." Sam put a hand on her arm in sympathy. "Won't you be in trouble for helping us?"

She shrugged. "He's tiring of me anyway." Lana smiled up at him. "May as well go out doing something right for a change."

"What's he planning?" Dean asked, handing Sam's gun to him. "He said he was doing something in those ruins. We need to know what it is."

"I don't know. I swear." She said when Dean tilted his head at her. "He doesn't tell me those sorts of things. I just know he needed more souls. The…the serpents, they'd kill people but the souls would stay there. They're trapped I think."

Dean raised his brows at his brother. "Any ideas?"

"No clue." Sam took the knife Dean gave him and slipped it under his jacket against his back.

"Well let's just go ask as him, shall we?" Dean grinned dangerously.

"He's not here." Lana touched his arm lightly. "He's gone to the ruins. I don't know why but I know that's where he went. It's how…how I was able to get away to let you out."

Sam looked back through the window into the cave and saw the Dobhar-Chu had taken her egg back to her nest and was coiled around them, staring out through the glass at him. "What about that?" Sam waved at the window and Dean frowned.

"We'll come back and deal with her and the eggs. She's not going anywhere." Dean nodded and looked back to Lana. "How many guards out there? Our buddy Jasper maybe?" He wanted a few minutes alone with him.

"Not many and Jasper's gone with Mr. Fielding to the ruins." Lana sighed. "Go now, please." She took Sam's arm and gave him a turn toward the door. "Before someone comes."

"We're coming back for you." Sam said suddenly and gave her a confident look. "We're not just going to leave you to him. Okay?" Lana smiled sadly up at him but nodded.

"Let's go." Dean went to the door and eased it open, sticking his head out. "Hall's clear." He waited for Sam and took the lead with a last glance at Lana before closing the door. They only found one guard on their way out and Dean made quick work of him with a steely punch to the jaw that rolled his eyes back.

"Guess they're not used to people escaping." Sam muttered as they stepped outside and saw the Impala waiting for them.

Dean chuckled. "They don't know us." He dashed to the car and had the engine running by the time Sam got it in. "You good?" He asked as he pulled out and gave his brother a hard look.

Sam nodded. "I can handle it. We have to get to those ruins." He sat up straighter, relieving some of the pressure in his chest. They couldn't afford for him to be out of the fight.

Dean studied him for a moment and then nodded. "Ok but you let me take the lead." He said it firmly, a definite order. He knew Sam wasn't a hundred percent; nowhere near it and he knew he'd never sit quietly back while Dean went in on his own. Sam gave him a tight nod, annoyed but didn't argue. Dean smiled; kid was learning.

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Dean and Sam went silently down into the Bluff Point ruins again, each one thinking they'd had enough of the place to last a lifetime. They had arrived, unsure where to even begin looking for the Warlock but as they'd parked, they'd seen the light of a fire off toward the old stoneworkings in the pre-dawn darkness. Whatever Fielding was up to, he was doing it outside. There was only an hour left until sunrise. Any time now the sky would start to lighten and they'd lose the cover of darkness. Dean sped up the pace, trusting Sam to stay at his back as they neared and could hear the murmur of voices. They each carried shotguns loaded with rocksalt, unsure what they would face in the ruins aside from ghosts.

They rounded a fallen down wall, crouching behind it to stay in the shadows and looked out on the open area below. Mr. Fielding had exchanged his snazzy three piece suit for a flowing black robe and stood before a huge bonfire, arms wide, head back chanting something that sounded like Latin to Sam's ears.

"Gotta get closer." Sam whispered and Dean nodded, trying to spot any guards lurking in the open pit.

"Think I can help with that." Jaspers' voice startled both men. They whirled to find Jasper behind them, gun in hand. Dean froze with his shotgun half raised. "Let it go, mate." Jasper motioned to Dean to drop the gun. He set it down as did Sam beside him. "Up you go boys. Boss thought you might find a way to get out and I lost a tenner." He smirked. "I bet she'd eat ya both." He waved the gun and waited for them to stand and start walking before he latched on to Sam's shoulder, making him hiss in pain. "Ah now this seems familiar."

"You son of a bitch." Dean growled but let it go when he saw the muzzle of the gun pressed to Sam's neck.

They walked down into the open pit. Jasper gave a sharp whistle and Fielding turned away from the blazing fire with a smile. "I told you, Jasper. You counted them out too easily." He smiled more widely at them. "Just in time too."

"In time for what?" Sam asked, groaning as Jasper tightened his grip.

"Why the end of the world." The Warlock threw his arms wide, laughing. "I shall destroy it and remake it for my own." He leaned forward. "With a little help. I must say, it wasn't easy finding a location that met all the criteria."

"I know I'm gonna regret this." Dean rolled his eyes. "What criteria? What the hell are you doing here?"

Fielding gave him a dangerous grin. "This site, ancient as it is, is the resting place of hundreds of souls. Ancient souls. Oh you wouldn't believe the variety of the dead beneath our feet! The stone itself is infused with them." He breathed deeply as if smelling something they could not.

"Dude, you wanna huff spirits that's fine with us." Dean grinned and stepped back closer to Sam and Jasper.

Fielding frowned at him and nodded at Jasper. Dean barely had time to turn before Sam shouted in surprised pain as Jasper aimed a punch at his ribs, dropping him to his knees. The gun never left his temple. Dean spun back to Fielding with a growl.

"Next person who hurts my brother isn't walkin' out of here." Dean warned.

"Continue to play with your brother's life if you wish." Fielding glared at him and waited. He nodded when Dean said nothing. "Good. How long until dawn, Jasper?"

"About twenty minutes." Jasper said with a quick look at his watch. "Better get on with it, sir."

Fielding nodded. "You may want to kneel, Mr. Winchester. He might not slay you outright if he finds you penitent."

"Who?" Sam demanded, looking up and jerking in Jasper's grip. "Who are you calling?"

Fielding sighed and then smiled. "Abatton. I shall call him up and he will do my bidding. As the first rays of Dawn touch the ruin he shall come."

"You're insane." Sam breathed as Fielding turned back to the bonfire and started up his chant again.

"Ok, Sammy. Share with the class. What the hell is Abatton?" Dean stepped back again, now within arm's reach of them.

"He's a…well the lore's confused." Sam shook his head and would have shrugged if he could have. "The Coptic church has him as the left hand of god." He looked up to watch Fielding chanting. "He's supposed to have thrown Lucifer into the pit of hell when he fell and uh, collects souls. Dean everyone's supposed to fear him, even the Demons."

"So, end of the world kinda guy. Awesome." Dean looked up to meet Jasper's eyes. "You down with this? Huh? Your boss summoning up the bad ass that iced the friggin Devil?" The ground beneath them began to shake and Jasper's face looked anything but sure.

Jasper shook his head. "I do what he pays me for."

"He pay you enough to end the damn world? You think you get to live through this?" Dean pushed, eyes focused on Jaspers gun hand that was now trembling and had lowered from Sam's temple a fraction. The ground shook again and the bonfire blazed hotter. Around them a wailing started. "You're just a flunkie, you know that. Soon as Captain Kick Ass shows up you're toast pal, right along with us."

Jasper looked up to Fielding then, eyes narrowing. At the same time a host of spirits appeared in a wide ring at the edge of the pit. They began to swirl, the circle tightening and pulling them in toward the fire. As Jasper's eyes were on his boss and the ghosts, his hand lowered again and Dean sprang, tackling him back from his brother as the gun went off and pierced the eerie howling of the ghosts as they funneled into the bonfire.

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_To Be Continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's worth noting here that I wrote and published this story originally on fanfiction.net back in February of 2012. :D LONG before Supernatural decided to co-opt Abaddon. LOL 'Abatton' is an alternate an older spelling from the lore, which is confused about 'Abaddon's origins. In some stories, he's a demon. In others, he's a biblical figure; the left hand of God responsible for imprisoning Lucifer in Hell per God's order.


	10. Chapter 10

_**CHAPTER 10** _

Dean rolled with Jasper across the ground, hand clamped firmly around the wrist with the gun and couldn't spare a moment to check on Sam as one of Jasper's bony knees connected with his stomach and knocked the wind out of him.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean gasped and drove his right fist into Jasper's face with a satisfying crunch. He twisted the hitman's wrist until the gun clattered to the stone and pushed it away as Jasper got his knee under him and flipped Dean backwards. "Ow." Dean grunted and rolled to his feet as Jasper flew at him, blood streaming from his broken nose. Dean had just enough time to see Sam struggling to his feet behind Fielding before the man's shoulder dug into his chest and took them both to the ground.

Sam panted for air as Dean went past him, the gun exploding in his ear and stealing all the sound from that side of his head. He tilted his head and saw Dean seemed to have the upper hand. He looked back to Fielding where he still stood though now he had dropped one arm to hang limply at his side, blood streaming from a bullet wound but he hadn't stopped chanting the ritual. Sam rolled painfully to his side and got his feet under him. The ever shrinking ring of spirits around them was closing in to the bonfire and Sam knew on a visceral level that if they reached it, all hell was going to break loose. He staggered forward, drawing the gun from the small of his back and aimed at the Warlock's back.

"Fielding! Stop!" Sam shouted above the noise, the crackle of the fire, the wail of the spirits and the now constant rumbling beneath their feet. Sam fired a shot into the stone in front of Fielding and saw him startle. The chant paused; he turned to look at Sam with a growl on his face.

"Abbaton will not be stopped. He is coming!" Fielding raised his good arm toward Sam.

"Nope." Sam muttered and fired, taking Fielding's left leg from under him before he could pull some mystical crap on him. He went to the Warlock where he rolled on the ground, grabbed a fistful of Fielding's robe and drove his fist in to the man's face. Sam watched as his eyes rolled back and he dropped to his back. He turned to look out as a ray of light broke over the top of the ruins, gleaming down on the fire and the ring of spirits now only yards away.

Dean threw his elbow into Jasper's neck, making the man gasp. He followed it up with a devastating kick to his sternum and dropped him but he didn't stay down. Jasper growled up at him and charged but Dean was ready. He took Jasper's momentum and used it to flip him through the air. Dean followed his progress and watched him come to a sliding stop beside Sam and Fielding who wasn't looking too good either.

"Sammy?" Dean staggered closer and Sam gave him a nod and a smile, stepping back from the Warlock.

The ground beneath them shook in earnest as the first ray of dawn touched the bonfire. The swirling ring of spirits gave a sudden, ear shattering wail and broke apart with the ritual unfinished. They dispersed en masse and sank into the ground, released.

"Is that it?" Dean asked as silence suddenly fell and he looked around, wary.

"Maybe?" Sam shrugged his good shoulder and looked back to the fire. The shaking beneath their feet rumbled on, gaining strength and Sam took another step away toward his brother as the fire began to fall in on itself. Suddenly it exploded, flaming timbers shooting outward in all directions as a massive, spectral hand raised up from the center into the air. Sam turned and ran. Dean grabbed him as he neared and pulled them both away, throwing them to the side. The hand was enormous, clawed fingers reaching into the air and then it turned, lowering toward the two men lying beside the remains of the bonfire.

Fielding was still unconscious but Jasper rolled to his back and saw it coming for them. He scrambled to his knees, trying to crawl away as the hand came down upon them. It covered the Warlock's still form and dug ephemeral claws into Jasper's back.

"Help me!" Jasper screamed as he and his boss were dragged into the burning embers. The flames suddenly roared back to life, burning up into the lightening sky and both men were pulled from sight along with the hand.

Silence descended on the ruins finally, only the sound of the morning breeze and then the distant chirping of birds rang out. "Well that was...surprising." Sam said, a little breathless and sat up, staring around the open area as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. He shook once, hard, at how close they had come to not stopping the ritual in time. Dean got to one knee and looked over at Sam. He snorted and slapped a hand to the back of Sam's head. "Ow! What the hell, Dean?" Sam protested.

"You were on fire, dude." Dean chuckled and slapped a few more times before standing up. Sam clapped a hand to the back of his head and felt the singed and much shorter hair. He gave a long, disgusted sigh and let his still laughing brother pull him to his feet. "Don't worry, princess. It'll grow back."

"Bite me." Sam tossed at him and hunched over his aching chest. "There anything left?" He nodded to the remnants of the bonfire and Dean shrugged. He picked up Jasper's discarded gun and went cautiously forward until he was standing at the edge, looking in.

"Just a couple bloody trails." Dean called back and pocketed the gun before walking back. "Can we get the hell out of this town now?"

Sam shook his head, adrenaline beginning to wear off and didn't argue when Dean slipped under his good arm. "Still have to take care of the other Dobhar-Chu and her eggs."

Dean groaned. "Yeah, you're right. Come on, Humpty. Let's see if we can get you put back together enough for that." He hitched Sam's arm a little higher and pulled him along deeper into the ruins. They reached the main path up through the center and both men stopped, jerking back in surprise. A spirit stood in the shadows that still covered the path and watched them.

"Crap." Dean let Sam stand on his own and pulled the shotgun he'd picked up from beneath his jacket, leveling it at the spirit.

It was a woman, shimmering faintly as the sun rose and the light grew. She raised her hands slowly and smiled at them. "Thank you." She said, her thin voice easing through the air before she faded from sight.

"Alrighty then." Dean lowered the shotgun and slid back under Sam's arm.

"It was the Dobhar-Chu and the Warlock stirring up the spirits." Sam said, letting Dean get them moving again. "Hopefully they'll go back to rest now."

"Yeah cause we are definitely taking this place off the vacation list." Dean groused and took a bit more of Sam's weight as they headed uphill toward the parking lot and the car. Dawn had truly broken, sunlight streaming across the sky and turning the low hanging clouds orange and yellow in a beautiful display.

Sam realized, as they neared the car, that it was the first time he had heard the birds singing in the ruins since they'd first arrived. The ruins felt different now, lighter somehow. He knew the ghosts were gone now, he could feel it. He opened his mouth to tell Dean and then thought better of it. Telling him that would make him ask how he knew and Sam wasn't ready to have that conversation; he wasn't sure he even understood it himself yet.

"You okay?" Dean asked, sensing his brother tense and Sam nodded.

"Just tired." Sam turned and dropped carefully into the passenger seat once Dean opened the door. He cradled his left arm across his chest and leaned his head back.

Dean didn't say anything, just watched him for a moment and then closed the door with an irritated huff. Once again Sam wasn't telling him something and it was starting to wear on him; his little brother not trusting him with everything like he once had before college. He shook his head at himself and went round to the driver's side. Sam was a grown-up now and he had to keep reminding himself of that. He got behind the wheel and shook his head at his brother. Sam's head had already fallen on the seat, his whole body starting to tilt toward Dean in sleep. He snorted and reached across, pulling the seatbelt over Sam to keep him in place. He pulled out of the ruins and sincerely hoped they'd never have to come back.

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"Oh crap." Dean groaned as they neared Esperanza Mansion. Sam jerked awake at his voice and looked out the windshield, mouth dropping open.

"That can't be good." Sam said softly as they pulled around to the drive leading behind the mansion. Smoke was billowing up into the sky from the backside of the impressive building. As they pulled around the back they could see a gaping hole where the rear entrance had been. The space where the Impala had last parked was buried in rubble. Several people stood a distance away, watching in shock as the smoke poured and flames danced in the depths. Dean pulled the car up at a safe distance behind the lone police cruiser there. He and Sam climbed out and headed closer.

"What do you think?" Dean asked and Sam shook his head.

"Maybe…Fielding's altar? Every witch and warlock has one. Maybe Abbaton took it out when he took him." Sam saw Deputy Dooey ahead of them and the officer turned, eyes widening when he saw the brothers. "Wonder if he knows about the chief yet?"

"Shush." Dean told him and met the Deputy near the yellow tape he'd put up. "Deputy. What the hell happened here?"

Deputy Dooey pulled the hat off his head and ran a hand through short blonde hair. "Well, one of the witnesses says it was a steam pipe explosion." He looked back at the building and shrugged. "I don't know honestly and uh…" He looked back at both men. "Well, the Chief's missing. No one's seen him since sometime yesterday."

Dean gave him innocent eyes. He liked the Deputy and maybe even trusted him a little but being involved in the death of an officer, however innocently was not something they needed. "We haven't seen him. Believe me." Dean raised his hands. "I've steered clear of him."

Deputy Dooey nodded and then took a closer look at Sam. "Are you ok? You look like…" He trailed off and stared. "Um…the snake?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it's dead." He smiled at him. "So this witness, he see anything else?"

"She." Dooey waved an arm behind him. "The owner's personal assistant. She barely got out."

Dean looked over in surprise and saw Lana standing very near the building. "Mind if we uh…" Dean waved toward her and Dooey shrugged.

"Yeah go ahead. Fire's mostly eaten itself down at this point." He stepped away and Sam and Dean went around the tape and over to Lana where she rang her hands, looking into the building.

"Lana?" Sam called and she turned in surprise. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"Oh my…." She gasped and came to them, touching a hand to each of their arms. "Is he…Mr. Fielding, is he…dead?"

Sam nodded and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "He's gone. You're free."

Lana whisked her hands to her face, eyes closing and tears began to fall. "When his altar…it went up in flames." She dropped her hands and gave a shaky smile. "I knew it had to be. I…I hit the fire alarm and got out and then this happened." She looked back at the mansion.

"Lana." Dean leaned in so no one would over hear. "Are you sure there's nothing still alive in there?" He raised his brows meaningfully and after a moment her eyes widened in understanding.

"Oh! Well, I don't really know." She looked nervous now. "I mean, all that fire…it would have to be dead, wouldn't it?"

"Maybe." Dean looked over to Sam who was frowning and then jerked in surprise.

"Dean!" Sam grabbed his arm and used his body to physically push them all away, back toward the yellow tape as a smoldering black body erupted from the rubble, slithering out into the parking lot. The few bystanders screamed and ran. Dean grabbed Lana's arm and threw her behind them as he pulled the bronze Skein from his back. The Dobhar-Chu's hair had all been burned off; she looked more like a great Anaconda now as she rounded on them. Her massive head swung up, tongue lashing out and she spotted Dean. Her head wavered and then turned, seeing Sam.

"Son of a bitch." Dean gasped as she lunged forward and took Sam's legs out from under him. She remembered his brother swiping one of her eggs obviously. Sam rolled away, getting slowly to his feet and falling back as she arrowed her head at him again. "Sam!"

"Get down!" Deputy Dooey's voice carried over the chaos and the sound of gunshots ripped through the air. The serpent's head jerked with the hits and Dean looked back in surprise. Dooey was holding a shotgun and firing what had to be rock salt rounds. "Guy learns fast." Dean muttered and ran to his brother while she was distracted.

Sam waved him off. "No! Dean! Let her come for me!"

"What? Are you off your damn rocker?" Dean skidded to a stop as Sam got to his knees.

"Kill her while she's distracted dammit!" Sam yelled back at him and then picked up a piece of stone, lobbing it at the side of the Dobhar-Chu's head.

"Oh we are gonna talk about this, Sammy." Dean growled as the snake turned back to his little brother and lunged across the pavement at him.

Sam ran behind a large green dumpster, wondering if maybe this hadn't been one of his better ideas as the serpent's head slammed into the other side, shoving it and him backward. "Crap." Sam gasped and risked a glance over the top. He reared back in surprise as her head rose above the dumpster, jaws wide and hissing. She lowered her head down until her muzzle was only inches from his face, red eyes searing into him as a horn slowly emerged from the center of her head. Sam gagged a bit on the smell of burnt hair and flesh coming from the Dobhar-Chu and silently begged Dean to hurry. She opened her jaws wide as Sam backed into the low stone wall behind him and suddenly, she lurched back as an unearthly scream burst from her throat and Sam saw a blur that could only be his brother vanish beyond the dumpster.

Dean waited until the creature's head was stretched out over the dumpster, reaching for Sam before he ran in. He ducked under a loop of her body as Deputy Dooey loosed another round and drove his Skein into where he hoped her heart was located. She screamed as he dragged the blade heavily through the interlocking scales. "Come on." He grunted and then shouted in surprise when he was lifted from his feet as she rolled, trying to escape the knife. "Oh no you don't." He wrapped his legs around the Dobhar-Chu's body and held out. He rolled his eyes and plunged his hand inside the hole he had made, feeling for her beating heart. He found it as she slammed him into the pavement. Not releasing his grip, he pulled the blade free and plunged it into the heart.

The Dobhar-Chu gave a mortal scream, her coils thrashing and fell to the ground. Dean rolled away from the twitching body and got painfully to his feet.

"Dean? You alright?" Deputy Dooey ran over, skirting the serpent as Sam emerged from behind the dumpster.

"Yeah." Dean bent over and took a few deep breaths. His back was going to look like a Rorschach test of bruises he was sure. "I'm good. Sam?"

"Here." Sam staggered over and pulled Dean upright. "Now can we go?"

Dean snorted a laugh. "Oh hell yes. Deputy, no offense but I hope we never see this town again."

Deputy Dooey lowered his shotgun and smiled with a nod. "Thank you. Both of you." He glanced back at the Dobhar-Chu. "Don't know how I'm going to explain this."

"You don't." Dean took his arm in a friendly grip. "You salt the body and burn it. Now. Things like this, if you don't get rid of them, sometimes…sometimes they can come back." Dean watched surprise spread across his face. "Look. You did good." Dean tapped the shotgun. "There's hope for you yet." He grinned at Dooey.

"But if you start talking about giant serpents and ghosts…" Sam smiled sadly up at him. "Trust me, you don't want to try and explain this. Get rid of the body and come up with a good story."

Deputy Dooey looked between them and finally nodded. He fixed Dean with a serious look. "The Sheriff. He's not coming back, is he?"

Dean considered and then took a chance with a short nod. "We did kill the other one but uh…not in time. I'm sorry." Dean looked back to the smoking building. "There were seven eggs in there. Make sure they all went up." He handed Dooey his Skein with a smile. "Just in case."

Dooey nodded, taking the bronze blade. "Thank you. You two should get out of here. I'll…I'll take care of this."

"Thank you, Deputy." Sam said sincerely and turned to follow his brother back to the car. He gripped his hand below his left shoulder and tried to ignore the pain running through him. He startled when he felt Dean beside him, pulling his right arm over his shoulder.

"Dude you need to get horizontal." Dean said seriously and steered them toward the Impala. "And you ever pull that snake bait crap on me again I will kick your ass."

Sam snorted. "Doesn't bother you when you do it." He said as Dean opened the door and helped him in.

"That's different." Dean belted him in and met the bitch face aimed at him. "I'm the awesome big brother."

"Right." Sam rolled his eyes and let his head slide down to rest on the window as Dean shut the door.

"Idiot." Dean groaned and walked around the car to find Lana waiting for him.

"Thank you." Lana said and impulsively threw her arms around Dean's neck, pulling herself up and kissed him before dropping back. "Um…just, thank you." She said as her face blushed a brilliant red while Dean grinned.

"Next time someone offers a deal for your soul, say no." He told her and got in the car, grin still in place.

"What is it with you and women?" Sam asked, amused and Dean chuckled.

"Chicks dig me, little brother." Dean said, satisfied as Sam laughed and pulled out of the parking lot as the first fire truck arrived and a second plume of smoke rose from what had been the body of the Dobhar-Chu. He pulled out and drove north, aiming to get the hell away from Bluff Point and Keuka in general. "How you doin' over there?" He glanced over to see Sam grimace as they went over a pothole.

"Just lemme lay down somewhere for a week I'll be good." Sam smirked over at him and let his head fall back to the window.

"I'll see if we can get you some hot nurses." Dean grinned as Sam jerked his head up.

"Dude, no. I'm fine. I don't need a hospital." Sam argued and Dean shook his head.

"Suck it up, Sammy. You and your broken ribs are getting checked out." Dean assured him and to prove his point, he aimed for the next pot hole and smirked when the blood drained out of his brother's face on a groan. "Unless you wanna wrestle for it?"

Sam let his head fall back on a moan. "Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean retorted with a happy smile and followed the first sign with a blue H he found. He turned the radio on and hummed along with Meatloaf about paradise and wondered how he could humiliate his little brother in a hospital with an open back gown.

"Why are you laughing?" Sam asked suddenly, warily from the passenger seat and Dean just shook his head.

"No reason, Sammy." Dean turned the volume up and started singing.

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_The End._


End file.
